The Billionaire's Daughter
by herointhecrowd
Summary: Anna has always been taught to treat people as equals, no matter where they come from. Even when her father's company turned very successful, she kept that knowledge in mind. But this beautiful, wonderful girl is incomparable. And man, can she ski. Modern/Skiing AU. Not sisters. Elsanna.
1. Crash And Burn

**Author's Note: I doubt anyone even actually reads these damn things, but alas, I just wanted to say hello. Yes, I have indeed boarded the Elsanna train and no, I will not be shamed off of it. This story does not contain incest, but fuck you if you shame anyone for shipping it in non-abusive and completely consensual ways. **

**There, now I'm off my soap box. Please enjoy my addition to the plethora of gorgeously developed AU's for these two lovely ladies. This will be a multi-chaptered fic and yes, there will actually be a plot outside of Kristoff and Anna doing stupid stuff and Elsa cleaning up their mess. Well, that will be the majority of the fic, but you get the point. There will definitely be some smooching as well. **

**Anyway, enjoy! Also, as evidence proclaims, I am no Disney and these characters do not belong to me. **

The Billionaire's Daughter

Kristoff had been so certain. He had sounded so absolutely resolute in the idea that this was going to be fun, that she would actually enjoy herself. Oh, how very wrong he was.

Anna had never been an exceptional fan of winter sports. Sure, a nice snowfall for the sake of snowman building and snow angels had always been in good fun, but the idea of plummeting down a remarkably steep mountain at breakneck speeds while balanced on a single plank of wood just seemed down right stupid. While she was known for all of the stupid things she and her older brother, Kristoff, happened to do, this was really taking the proverbial cake.

"Kris, this is literally the worst idea you've ever had and I fucking hate you." It wasn't _exactly_ Kristoff's idea, per say, though Anna seemed to recall quite a bit of goading into this particular endeavor. Kristoff, being nearly two years older than Anna and a student at the University of Denver, had much more experience snowboarding than his younger sister. He had also done a fair bit of winter boarding back in high school, always finding some way back to the slopes. Anna, on the other hand, much preferred all of the warmth and comfort summer could provide. When their family moved to Denver, Kristoff had suggested that after so long apart he and his 'favorite little twerp' could spend some quality time on the mountain. She distinctly recalled something about 'finding out whether Anna liked the taste of snow, because Kristoff would be boarding circles around her.' Not to be outdone, of course, Anna had immediately strapped on a board and accepted her brother's invitation.

So okay, maybe it was mostly her idiotic pride that now had her up on this damned chairlift with Kristoff grinning like an idiot in her direction. Still, he was a much larger target and much easier to blame.

"You only curse when you're nervous. It's unbecoming, fiestypants." Kristoff did not even attempt to hide his chuckles. This pissed Anna off to the point that she considered simply lugging the big idiot off the lift and into the snow. Which happened to be far away. Very far away.

Her anger was swallowed and replaced by a distinct lump in her throat. "Seriously, what if I die? Oh my God, Kristoff, what if I actually really hurt myself and then I won't be able to walk I'll be what are those people called you know the ones who can't move anything below their necks shit oh God what are they called I can't even remember why the fuck are there so many trees on a ski slope aren't you supposed to avoid those I can't avoid anything holy God I'm going to be a whatcha-ma-call-it-"

Kristoff was now doubled over, clinging to the drop bar for support. "Jesus Anna, they're called quadriplegics. And you aren't going to die or be paralyzed. This isn't the actual run we're doing; this is a black diamond. Our run is hardly anything more than a bunny slope. What kind of brother do you think I am?"

Though Anna wasn't entirely sure what bunnies had to do with snowboarding, she wasn't quite comfortable being compared to one. Bunnies ran fast. What if the mountain made her move fast?

"Relax kiddo," Kristoff's voice and an arm around her suddenly very tense shoulders brought Anna back to the present, "I'm not gonna let anything bad happen to you. Just listen to me and you'll be fine."

In that way that Kristoff had, Anna immediately felt better. Her shoulders relaxed under the pressure of his thick arm, and she gave a small smile, her teal eyes twinkling behind her goggles. Maybe this could be fun.

Of course, that was a foolish notion. Fun, by standard definition, had to be enjoyable. Whatever sorcery it took to successfully disembark from a lift chair was beyond Anna, and in no way enjoyable.

"On the count of three," they were getting closer, Kristoff's voice was muffled by the flaps of her hat, was he really sitting next to her or was he eighteen chairs in front of her?

"One," Jesus that drop still looked rather wide from where she was sitting, was she really to be expected to land and then not get knocked on her ass? Why the hell did she actually have the board strapped to her feet? Who's stupid idea was that?

"Two," Oh yeah, it was hers. Kristoff had told her that was a mistake. She didn't listen. Shit, how was she supposed to angle her body so that she didn't fall?

"Three," Oh God were they supposed to hop off on three or after three? Jesus why was this so hard?

The drop bar popped up under Kristoff's hand and a tug at her arm somehow jerked her free from her open mouthed terror. Was that solid ground under her feet? Had her board somehow made contact with the snow? She looked down. Big mistake.

Immediately, the chair came into sharp contact with the backs of her thighs as she stared in shock at her semi-successfully planted lower half, knocking both her and Kristoff off balance. Her brother tried to stabilize them both, but Anna was already going down and just praying that she could die from being knocked in the head by a chair lift as opposed to dying from embarrassment.

Neither, however, happened. Instead, Anna lie facedown in the powder, grumbling, narrowly missing being decapitated by a pair of skiers with atrocious potty mouths. "Anna, Jesus, get off your ass. You're going to get killed. Or worse, get us sued."

Heeding Kristoff's warning, likely for the first time in her life, Anna attempted to push herself up from the snow, only to find that she had very limited mobility in her lower half. Groaning, she gave what might have been the most pathetic look Kristoff had ever been tossed in his life. He took her by the shoulders, hoisting her upright and dusting the powder off her legs.

"Honestly, you're like a damn bull in a china shop. You okay?" Concern shined genuine in his eyes, and Anna almost forgot to be embarrassed for a moment.

Sheepishness crept onto her face as it heated with blood, her hand rising subconsciously to nervously rub the back of her neck. "Yeah, yeah I'm fine. Sorry, Kris."

A small grin peeked onto his shapely jaw, and he chuckled quietly to himself. "You're always sorry. Quit apologizing and start acting right, you loser." He bumped her shoulder playfully, nearly knocking her off balance again.

This time, however, Anna managed to stay righted, and grinned at her triumph. Kristoff could have burst with laughter, but decided to take a more diplomatic (and likely hygienic) route. "Lesson number one: stay mostly upright. Check."

Her brother lead her unceremoniously over to the opening of a much wider, much clearer, and much less slopped side of the mountain. "See, now does that look so scary?"

Anna had to admit, it was not quite so daunting as whatever geometric shape the last run had been compared to. "It doesn't look like it."

Kristoff let go of her arm, watching her wabble for a mere second before instinctively stretching out her arms to balance herself. "Good. That's a start. Follow your instincts. Now here's the deal, Anna. You're shit at anything that involves coordination," at this, Anna stuck her tongue out at him, "and you're about as balanced as an overworked suburban soccer mom, but I am amazing and charitable. Thus, I have determined that I, Kristoff Andrew Bjorgman, am in charge of instructing you in the ways of snowboarding."

Anna huffed, trying to blow a bit of fringe off her goggles. "Yeah, very generous of you, oh wise, omnipotent one. Could you get on with it? I'm freezing."

Kristoff clucked like a mother hen, but complied. "Here's the thing about snowboarding. You have to stay balanced and centered." Kristoff wedged his unstrapped board into the snow and padded over to her, settling his giant hands onto her shoulders and rearranging her orientation. "Face this way, and keep your shoulders centered. Not too tense, or you won't be able to change direction. Not too loose, or you won't be able to maintain your direction. Got it?"

"Paradoxical shoulders, got it." Anna flexed her shoulders to punctuate her statement, smirking in Kristoff's direction. Evidently he took his winter sports very seriously.

"I'm ignoring you. Anyway, next you need to keep your knees bent and get used to using your weight as a control mechanism. Watch this," Kristoff forced Anna to bend ever so slightly at her knees. "Shift your weight forward, but keep your shoulders squared."

Anna, in her best attempt, did as her brother commanded. Sure enough, Anna began to slide forward. This of course resulted in a yelp of surprise and unassuming flailing.

"Anna, Anna! Relax. Remember, centered shoulders or you die. Now, if you want to slow down, you just shift your weight back."

Again and again, Anna demonstrated this for Kristoff. She fell on her ass numerous times, both unceremoniously and then other times with all of the ostentatious squealing and disdain that he found oh-so-annoying and oh-so-endearing. When it appeared that Anna had mastered forward motion about as much as anyone with that much flailing could, Kristoff quickly instructed her in the art of turning.

This next lesson required even more practice, and though Anna had barely moved a hundred yards down the mountain, her legs and arms were already sore and her stomach snarled at her with distaste. None of her body was used to this much exertion.

"You're actually starting to look mediocrely competent, sis. I'm impressed." Kristoff smirked as Anna's stomach gave a crow of hatred. "Hungry?"

"Starved. How long have we been at it?"

Kristoff quickly checked his watch, clicking his tongue. "Couple of hours. It's nearly 12:30. Wanna grab some lunch and then practice some more? I promised Mom and Dad we'd meet them at The Atrium at the bottom of the slope, just to prove you hadn't offed yourself. Then, if you're underworked, scrawny legs are feeling up to it, we can work some more. Deal?"

The prospect of food sounded so remarkably appealing that Anna could have sworn she heard the hallelujah chorus. "God food sounds great. So, where's the lift down?"

The smirk that peeled onto Kristoff's face was the very epitome of evil, of darkness in the very finest forms. It snuck out over his face like a crack in the ice, wormed it's way into her heart and struck her fiercely. Anna felt a storm cloud rumbling in her chest.

"Silly little sister. There's only one way down." Anna gulped the frigid mountain air and anxiously glanced over her brother's shoulder. He was suddenly strapping on his board, the clacking of the hooks filled her ears as he straightened his feet. He was positioned in a flash, then glanced back at her, still grinning. "Meet ya at the bottom. Try to keep up."

This challenge sparked in her chest cavity like a match, and a grotesque smile filled Anna's face as well. She had to beat him. She had to. "You're on, fat head."

And then they were off. Somehow, Anna managed to stay righted, only losing her balance a few times in the beginning but never actually falling. She could tell Kristoff was taking it easy on her, likely to ensure that she didn't fall too far behind or, worse, into a tree, but there was no way he was letting her win. She gritted her teeth in distaste and urged her body forward.

Perhaps if she had been paying closer attention instead of trying to edge up on Kristoff, she would have realized that her shoulders were no longer squared and that her body was now angled slightly left. It was only when she saw the beginnings of a forest between them that she realized what had happened. Somehow she had gotten off the bunny slope, and there was no way of knowing how to get back on.

She almost screamed, but the sound froze in her lungs as she lost sight of Kristoff. For some reason, she could not force his name from her lips. Instead, she stared blindly forward, realizing very suddenly that this was nothing like the "slope" she had experienced previously.

When had the degree of the slope altered so drastically? And holy shit, why was this one so much more narrow?

Anna could do nothing but keep her arms outstretched and her mouth open as she barreled down the mountain. Still, Kristoff's lessons had not gone to waste. Anna was able to keep herself from slamming into several different pines that just so happened to find their way into her path, and she narrowly missed a jump that surely would have resulted in a devastating brain injury. Briefly, Anna's life flashed before her eyes. God, had she really worn her hair like that in seventh grade? What a travesty.

Miraculously, Anna found herself in a much clearer opening, facing the entirety of the resort. Skiers and snowboarders alike flew down the mountain, skillfully arching their curves to measure their speeds in a much more efficient and artful way than the crude mess Kristoff had taught her. No amount of shifting her weight would help her here. Thus, Anna resorted to her chief-most instinct: more flailing.

It was about halfway through her direct and dangerously fast decent down the open plane that Anna realized there was one other lesson Kristoff had yet to manage to teach her: how to stop.

Suddenly, with a flash of horror, Anna realized that there was a plastic cording of a barrier around the bottom of the slope to ensure that no idiotic beginner crashed down the mountain and into the crowds mulling below. Unfortunately, Anna was no ordinary idiotic beginner; she was the most accident prone idiot beginner in the history of the world.

Finally Anna managed a squeal, and the crowds that stood around her newly designated exit point scrambled out of the way of the impact. Anna lost all control of her "squared" shoulders and thrust her hands up, attempting to shield her face. Her body, in reaction, careened downward and squarely hit the barrier, her body catching and slamming down against the more hardened powder, ripping the barrier and sending the poor excuse for a snowboarder into the street.

Anna opened her eyes slowly, the haziness clouding her vision and the ungodly pounding in her head throbbing in her frontal lobe. That was going to make senior year interesting. An ungodly noise erupted from her throat. Holy shit did her leg hurt.

"Oh my goodness, are you alright?" Anna managed to look up.

It was so cliche. Really, her life had to have been some disgusting, low-budget rom-com, because this was the sort of uncanny cruelty that was only enforced on the weak-minded protagonists that Hollywood somehow managed to vomit into the public's eager mouths. Leaning beside her now, a knee brushed against her arm, was quite possibly the most beautiful girl in the entire world.

The girl's nimble fingers unclasped the helmet Anna was wearing and set it aside, moving another hand beneath her head to lean her up. Anna winced and cursed.

"I'm sorry, it's just… Well your nose is bleeding and it needs to drain back." The girl's voice was downright angelic. Who the hell said that was okay? "Wow, you're going to have an incredible bruise in a few hours."

_Spectacular. I'm lying under quite possibly the most beautiful woman these queer eyes have ever seen and I just ran into a goddam wall. Good going, Bjorgman. Real smooth._

Anna tried to speak, but only ended up gurgling. Embarrassment shot through her, and immediately she clammed up. Fortunately, the girl above her seemed to find this amusing. She giggled, her brow still knotted together, but a small smile popped over her features. _Wow. Freckles are awesome._

"I'm Anna." Her voice was an absolute disgrace, truly a criminal of treason. It sounded like a lawnmower that had just eaten a few hundred pebbles for breakfast.

The girl above her blushed, highlighting those so called 'awesome' freckles. Bright blue eyes twinkled. "Well, I didn't exactly ask."

Anna blanched, her skin paling into a color akin to green. _Holy shit. She really didn't ask. I'm a fucking moron._

She made an attempt to cover, searching for anything to say, anything at all, anything coherent and competent, but the girl shushed her with another smile. "Just kidding, Anna. My name is Elsa."

_Elsa. That's nice._

Anna was pretty sure Elsa had continued to talk, but she was distracted now by pale freckles and long, blonde eyelashes and perfectly applied purple eyeshadow and, really, how did she make her hair do that? If that wasn't just the coolest thing in the world, what was? Her lips quirked up in a smile, and Anna's heart fluttered in her chest. _Yup. Definitely a rom-com._

"Anna? Are you listening to me?"

Anna snapped comically to attention, her mouth falling open as though she had just been caught with several Oreos stuffed into her gob. "Not one bit. What did you say?"

_Fuck, did I just say that out loud?_

As though taken aback by Anna's brutal, albeit unintentional, honesty, Elsa paused, mouth popping open ever so slightly. Anna felt heat course through her bones. How could silent gasping while fully clothed be so attractive?

Then Elsa was smiling again, one perfectly groomed eyebrow rising on her face. Anna nearly growled.

"I said, we need to get you to the hospital now to get that leg checked out. Can you walk?"

Anna paused, affronted. _My leg? Why the hell wouldn't I be able to walk?_

Curiously, Anna gazed down to where Elsa had evidently rolled up her pant leg-the thought filled her with all sorts of momentary shivers-before realizing exactly why Elsa was concerned about her ability to walk.

As though someone had simply scooted the entirety of the bottom half of Anna's right leg to the left, her knee cap seemed to have completely released any sort of hold on Anna's femur. The leg rolled grotesquely and limply out of place. Pain shot through Anna's body at the realization.

"Holy fuck."

And then, like the pansy she was, Anna lost all conscious thought and her body went limp in Elsa's palm.


	2. Stubborn Stupidity

**A/N: I normally hate doing these at the beginning of a chapter, but what choice do I have? First and foremost, I deeply apologize for the lack of updating. I've been on Spring Break and will be until Friday without Internet. However, stick with me and I promise you won't be disappointed! As always, much love, and thanks to anyone who took the time to review!**

Anna awoke rather abruptly to a room that was a disgusting shade of off white. It reminded her of hormone-injected eggs, often broken in her hands by her clumsiness. Being reminded of her own clumsiness was never something she enjoyed.

The first thing she noticed was the scent of something that must have, in some circles, passed for food.

The second thing she noticed was the shooting pain that burned with the fire of a thousand suns near the base of her kneecap.

Anna winced almost comically, groaning in a voice that sounded so very much unlike her own. She attempted to reach down to the leg, to lift herself from the pillow she found herself on, but a second throbbing behind her eyes struck her back to the bad. Another groaned punctuated this action and she nearly gasped.

"Oh. Good, I'm glad to see you're awake."

That voice. She had to have heard it in her dreams. She had to have heard that in some far off distant land that her consciousness had somehow blessed her with. That voice was beautiful. It was heaven if ever there was one.

Her eyes finally willed themselves open, and the world came streaming back to her. Crashing through barriers, sliding on her remarkably sore ass, beautiful bright blue eyes and a knee brushed against her arm. And there they were again, gazing down at her.

"Elsa." _Oh my God, is that my voice? I sound like an absolute idiot. Mayday Anna mayday keep your damn mouth shut!_

However, the smile that peaked onto Elsa's lips was beyond comforting, and warmth slipped into the depths of Anna's core. She had a wonderful smile; it was soft and careful and gentle. It lit up the room in a quiet way. It didn't need any sort of sign or announcement. It spoke for itself. She spoke for herself.

"You scared me, you know," Elsa's voice took a more serious tone, "You should never nearly die in a stranger's lap."

The idea of being in Elsa's lap nearly made Anna choke. "Yeah, I'm sorry about that. But you know, we're not exactly strangers right? I awkwardly spewed my name at you, remember?"

For a second, Anna could have sworn Elsa's smile quirked into a smirk. "How could I forget?"

There was a meaningful look shared between the two, but Anna couldn't quite pinpoint what it meant. It was warm, in that way that only a few certain looks are. It wasn't careful, like the other looks Elsa had shared with Anna so far, but brave and bold. Anna's heart sped up, and she convinced herself of one thing, for absolute certain: she had to get to know this girl.

As the fog cleared from her head, Anna could not help but be immediately distracted by everything Elsa. She was almost positive the morphine in her system was not clouding her ability to establish what a beautiful women stood before her. Blonde hair was tied back over and over in a simple but amazingly neat braid, with her bangs pushed up over the bluff of her forehead. Despite the neatness, a few choice strands fell over her brow in what had to have been the most endearing fashion possible. Her eyes stood out bright and proud in her face, long lashes cloaking them in mystery. The jaw that shaped her face was sharp, cold almost, but Anna found it tremendously inciting. And honestly, had anyone ever looked that amazing in blue before?

"So," Anna cleared her throat, shaking her head minutely despite the pain, "Wanna explain the tremendous pain?"

Elsa looked almost shocked at the suddenness of Anna's voice, something akin to a blush crossing over her cheeks. Anna almost couldn't contain her grin.

"I'm so sorry," her voice resumed that more careful tone, "I almost forgot." Elsa handed her a remote, pointing to a button in the center.

"If you'd like more morphine in the drip, just press that button. You might find it helpful. Apparently when you faceplanted, your board caught the steel bar that held up the exit barrier, twisting your knee out of place. You dislocated it rather seriously. I suppose when I drew your attention to it, you fainted."

Anna swallowed hard, immediately pressing the button. "Shit. Well, was there any tearing? Please, just answer no. I may pass out again if you say yes."

The smile was back, albeit sheepishly, on Elsa's face. "No, no tearing. The doctors said you'll need a brace, though."

Anna nodded absently, already feeling the rush of drugs through her veins. Her head leaned back gently on the pillow that suddenly felt much more comfortable than before. Through slightly parted eyes, Anna tossed her gaze over to Elsa's lap. A leather bound book sat forgotten in her hands.

"Whatcha readin'?" Anna could feel her words slurring, and considered just closing her eyes and never speaking again, but Elsa's presence seemed to be keeping her awake.

Elsa made a surprised noise, looking down into her lap almost instantly before smiling. "Pride and Prejudice. It's my favorite. I always carry it around with me."

"Okay Hermione," Anna chuckled at her own joke.

Something warm and soft wrapped around Anna's hand, and heat burst through her body, her eyes opening more widely. Sure enough, Elsa had slipped her fingers into Anna's weak grasp. She was smiling unabashedly now.

"I don't often get made fun of," her voice was almost teasing, "but if being compared to one of the greatest literary characters that has ever existed is the best you've got, I think I can take it."

Anna's heart was now thudding in her throat. "You like Harry Potter?" When had her voice become so hoarse?

Elsa now grinned, squeezing Anna's hand. "Who doesn't like Harry Potter?"

It was about this point in time that Anna realized that she was most likely in love with Elsa.

It was also about this point in time when Anna's foolish older brother crashed through the door and into the room, jarring Elsa's hand from Anna's hand. Instantly, Anna missed the warmth.

"Fucking hell, Anna, are you okay?" He looked positively ridiculous. His cheeks were ruddy and flushed; he'd clearly been running. His blond hair was ruffled every which direction, messy and covered in snow, the hat on his head crookedly clinging to his head. His eyes, however, were filled with that wonderful concern that Anna has become so accustomed to over the years. She could not help but smile.

"Jeez fathead, what took you so long?" Her voice still sounded hoarse, but she put on her best show for Kristoff. Immediately he was pulling up a char and wrapping a pair of enormous hands around her own. He was freezing.

"I'm so sorry," he rested his forehead against the curve of the back of her hand, and for a moment she watched her elder brother's shoulders shake. It hit her then just how much she must have scared him.

Anna moved her other hand and brushed Kristoff's hair from his forehead, and he looked up at her fearfully. She immediately shushed whatever protests he had bubbling in his throat. "Don't apologize. Just start acting right; isn't that what you always tell me?"

She smiled, and suddenly a wobbly smile creeped onto her brother's face as well. He chuckled quietly, nodding and smoothing Anna's own hair from her brow. "I'm glad you're okay."

Elsa cleared her throat suddenly, and the siblings looked up. Kristoff had been so concerned with the welfare of his little sister he had not even noticed a third party in the room.

From Anna's point of view, Elsa suddenly looked very nervous and uncomfortable. _What a strange emotion for anyone so beautiful to feel. _She cleared her throat again, before standing, her knuckles white around the binding of her book.

"I'll just be going, Anna. It was a pleasure to meet you. I'll leave you and your boyfriend be." She turned to leave, walking forward.

Anna immediately panicked. Could it be that Elsa was disappointed that Kristoff was being so affectionate towards Anna? Had Elsa been attracted to Kristoff? Anna's heart sank.

_Wait a minute. Boyfriend?_

"Boyfriend? Jesus Christ no, this is my older brother. I'm gay."

Once again, Anna blanched. Kristoff nearly choked on his own laughter. Had she really just admitted that for no apparent reason? Had she really just professed her sexuality to a nearly complete stranger who she may or may not have fallen in love with due to a shared affection for Harry Potter? What the hell was wrong with her?

Elsa stopped, and then turned. She had a curious look on her face, with her brow cocked upward and her face in a slightly upturned smile. Anna would be lying if she said she wasn't incredibly aroused.

"Well," Elsa's smooth, teasing voice had returned. How did anyone manage to look that innocent and teasing at the same time? "Thank you for that charming admission. I suppose we really aren't strangers any longer."

Anna coughed, her blush boiling her alive. _What the HELL is wrong with me?_

Before Anna could embarrass herself any further, Anna was reaching over her suddenly very limp body. Her outstretched hand sat before Kristoff's face. He eyed her, laughter still bubbling in his diaphragm, before accepting the handshake.

"Hello. I'm Elsa Arendelle. And you are?"

Kristoff grinned. "Kristoff Bjorgman. You can call me Kris."

Anna felt anger flooding her body. _Hold the fucking phone. What the hell, Kris?_ Upon looking back, Anna would realize how positively creepy it was that she suddenly felt such a strong possession over a woman who had chosen to tell Kristoff, and not her, her last name. She would realize it was irrational, that she did not own her, and that she did not believe in "dibs" because women were so much more than pieces of meat. Especially when that particular prime rib was likely not attracted to fellow cuts of steak at all.

None the less, Anna was pissed.

It bothered her even more that the two of them seemed to be getting on just fine, just dandily, so much better than she had in all of her incoherent bumbling.

"No way," Kristoff was laughing now, "You go to DU? I've never even seen you!"

Elsa smiled, sitting back down across from Kristoff, Anna's bed between them. "My father went there as well. I'm a legacy that way, I suppose. I'm an architecture major. And you?"

Kristoff snorted. "Undeclared for as long as possible."

This of course made Elsa laugh with distaste, chastising him already. Anna could already feel the pout that she was sporting growing. In stereotypical Anna-form, she simply crossed her arms and scowled, watching the two of them chat away like old chums.

Anna could not help but feel like a petulant child. She should be happy; it had been ages since Kristoff had had a girlfriend, and honestly she owed him, since the reason he lost that girlfriend was because she kept trying to sleep with his little sister. Still, there was something about Elsa that just made Anna want to know her.

"Oh, crap," Kristoff's sudden exclamation caught Anna's attention. She looked up, her petulance fading as she saw her brother looking up at her. "I forgot to call Mom and Dad."

He was standing immediately, pulling his hat off his head and ruffling the now melting snow out of his hair. "I'll be right back, alright ladies?" He smiled then, an unassuming but gentle smile, and was gone once more.

And then there were two.

Anna could not help that sulkiness that crept back into her stomach at Elsa's next words. "Your brother is very kind."

She couldn't help but grunt in response, instantly feeling like a total idiot. With a deep breath, Anna sighed and replied, "He's my best friend."

Elsa smiled down at her. "He cares about you so much; that much is obvious."

Anna snorted, "I could set you up on a date if you'd like." She flinched at her own cheekiness, but Elsa merely laughed.

"I don't think that's necessary. I'm quite capable of getting a date if I would like one." The statement made Anna swallow a little too hard. She had no trouble believing Elsa was more than capable of making young, strapping men fall madly in love with her.

For a while, they sat in silence. Anna even felt herself drifting off to sleep, wanting nothing more than to forget the looks Elsa and Kristoff had shared. She almost thought she felt a hand brush her arm.

Elsa was standing again then, all of a sudden, but her smile was still present on her face. "Well, while this has all been very exciting, and your brother is very kind, I believe I should take my leave."

Anna once again felt panic streak through her. "Wait! You don't have to go you know!"

There was a smile again, a gentle one, and Elsa replied, "I would love to stay with you an wax poetic about Gryffindors and Hippogriffs, but I really must go. My parents and my little brothers will be waiting for me."

Elsa was definitely leaving then, and Anna felt her voice die in her throat. "Well, bye then. Thanks for your help, really."

There was such a tenderness in Anna's voice that it surprised even her. She swallowed it back down and banished it to the depths of her soul.

Elsa paused at the door and threw Anna a dazzling smile. "Thank you for accepting my help, Anna. Something tells me that is not something you often do. See you later."

And then, with a cool wind and a warmth that immediately evacuated Anna's body, she was gone.

Anna slumped onto her pillow and groaned. She felt childish and stupid. She was acting like an absolute fool, stumbling over herself just because she had a crush on a straight girl. That wasn't love; it was infatuation. She was old enough to know not to act like a complete and utter idiot just because she saw a cute girl. _I'm such a goddam stereotype. _

For a while, Anna simply laid back and let here mind rumble over the events of the day, lingering on the parts that included Elsa Arendelle. Those were the brightest parts in her mind. She allowed herself to chastise her own foolishness and idiocy. She had acted like an idiot.

Then, something caught her eye. Sitting on the chair where Elsa had been was a leather bound book. Anna lifted an aching hand and picked the book up, bringing it into her line of sight. _Pride and Prejudice._

Anna felt a light surge of something bittersweet in her chest. Elsa had left her favorite book behind. The one she always carried with her. She almost felt honored, as though the book had been a gift. It couldn't have been, of course. Elsa would never leave something so precious behind with a complete stranger. For a moment, Anna considered giving it to Kristoff and encouraging him to use it to ask Elsa out.

However, selfishness got the better of her. Instead, she tucked the book against her chest and laid back flat, closing her eyes and imagining waking up to shockingly blue eyes.


	3. Bed Rest and Elizabeth Bennet

Anna was bored.

Of course, this was pretty stereotypical for Anna Marie Bjorgman. She had spent about three quarters of her academic career in and out of vice-principals' offices, blaming her disruptive tendencies on a disposition of forgetfulness when it came to her medication. Anna was often found ambling about the class, talking to anyone and everyone, using any possible excuse she could find to get out of her seat and up on her feet. When she had discovered soccer, however, everything had changed. After her first practice, it became quite apparent that Anna was an absolute natural. Her grades began to improve, and suddenly she had an outlet for all of the energy she had buried away during class, which often burst out in charming-albeit impolite-interruptions.

Now, however, not only was Anna in a tremendous amount of pain, she also was surrounded by her doting parents and was incapable of getting up and dribbling her favorite ball.

"Anna, honest to God, if you change the channel one more time I'm stealing your hydros," Kristoff was slumped down in his chair, massive arms resting over the sides and his legs completely outstretched. Uncomfortable did not even begin to describe his position.

She huffed, and though she deeply considered finding the most ridiculously childish show on television and then forcing Kristoff to watch it, she still was fairly reliant on those pills. "Someone clearly has gotten over his fraternal guilt over nearly ending my life."

Kristoff snorted, standing and cracking his neck atrociously loudly. It was one of the many things he did that crawled under Anna's skin and sat there. "I feel bad for not giving you enough time to figure out how to snowboard. I do not feel bad because you are a clutzy mess who ran into a damn pole."

"Kristoff, show your sister a little kindness," their mother chastised him smilingly. She had a remarkable way of making her children feel simultaneously terrible and forgiven, just with a tilt of her lips.

Ruffling his heavy blond hair, Kristoff grumbled, "This is unfair. Mom, you always take Anna's side. I'm going to find Dad."

Their mother gave a laugh that was so like Anna's that it was hard to tell the two apart. She was a beautiful woman, in every sense of the word. She looked much more like Kristoff than her daughter, with dark blonde hair the color of honey and warm brown eyes. Her face was round, healthily plump and curvy, matching her body style so exactly that you would have thought a god had curved her from the most supple of marbles. She was lovely, graceful in her kindness and warmth. She was hardly what many expected when they met the famous Tamera Bjorgman, the wife and right hand of Forbes' corporate rookie of the year, Andrew Bjorgman. None the less, she complimented their father well, and had never been anything but a wonderful mother.

This being said, she could also be annoying as hell.

Once Kristoff had left the room, presumably to go talk about football or cars or race horses or whatever ridiculously stereotypical male activity he could think of after being subjected to reruns of Hannah Montana for the past three hours, Tamera was immediately at her daughter's side.

"How are you, baby? Feeling alright?"

"Mom," Anna could not help but groan. "I'm literally in the exact same condition as I was fifteen minutes ago." While Anna knew her mother was trying to be as gentle and caring as possible, it had become a bit much. Anna was not built for bed-rest or coddling. She had originally been accepting and even appreciative of her mother's characteristic doting, but after still being in the hospital three days after her incident, Anna was the definition of stir-crazy.

"Anna, please, I'm trying to help. Your condition could alter at any moment." Anna could not help but roll her eyes.

"I dislocated my knee, Mom. It's not like my heart valves collapsed or I'm having a problematic colonoscopy. I'm fine."

For a moment, both women were silent. Then, in the quiet, Tamera began to smile gently. She smoothed a hand up through Anna's bangs, pushing them up off her forehead and laying a sweet kiss against her skin. For all of her distaste of coddling and protectiveness, Anna could not deny that her mother's kisses had always been the most comforting feelings in the world.

"This must be hard for you, Anna. I'm sorry. I am trying to be helpful." Anna felt a flush of guilt crawl up her neck.

"Ma, I'm sorry. I shouldn't be pushing you away. I'm just sooooo booooored…"

Tamera let out another matronly laugh, scratching the crown of Anna's head. Anna mewled, arching her head as though she was a kitten, starved for affection. "Well, not to worry, love. We'll have you out of her in just another twenty four hours, alright?"

Pacified, Anna nodded, taking her timely dosage of medication and falling asleep to the sound of her mother's humming voice and the comfort of her fingertips brushing against her scalp.

* * *

When she finally was roused from her hydrocodone induced coma, the room was filled with a dim darkness and moonlight peaking across the mountains. Anna groaned sharply, realizing that not only were visiting hours over, she had also managed to waste an entire day asleep and thusly would be confined to a lonely boredom for the duration of the evening.

A nurse entered the room then, with a kind face and warm, tan skin. She smiled when Anna looked up at her entrance.

"Miss Bjorgman," the woman placed a tray before Anna, ignoring the putrid look on her face, "It is nice to see your eyes open, for once."

"Forgive me if I am not overjoyed to spend my senior winter break in a hospital bed, Ms. Ramirez." Anna picked up the white plastic fork, poking what appeared to be a bit of meatloaf on the plate.

"Don't poke that; it might move off your plate," Ms. Ramirez chuckled at the pair of narrowed eyes that pointed in her direction, before tidying up the room that Anna unceremoniously occupied. "It is remarkable how messy you can be for a woman condemned to bed-rest, _querido." _

Anna could not help but smile at the term of endearment. Perhaps it was the utter lack of culture in her family, but the sound of another language warmed her somehow. "I am unbreakable, Ms. Ramirez. Nothing can stop me from ruining a room!"

"Or your leg, evidently." The portly woman smirked at the blush on Anna's face as she grumbled something imperceptible, though hinted with defensiveness.

"Not to worry, _querido. _The good doctor will have you all fixed up by the time _fútbol _season begins."

That sentiment forced a smile back on Anna's freckled face, and she nearly jumped up and hugged the nurse's neck. "You're an absolute angel, Julia. An absolute saint. I hope you're in tight with the Pope, because he's got a high place for you; I'm sure of it!"

Ms. Ramirez could not contain her chuckle. "Do not call me Julia, Miss Bjorgman. It is unprofessional."

After a few moments of silence and "meat loaf" poking, Anna slumped back onto her pillow, calling out nothing more than the single word, "Booooooored."

This of course made the nurse laugh once more as she whacked at Anna with a rolled up newspaper Mr. Bjorgman had been flipping through earlier. Anna yelped, rubbing feverishly at her pained bicep and shooting daggers at the nurse. "You are in a hospital, not a coffin. Be thankful."

Anna started to grumble something about coffins rarely being required in the case of dislocated knees, no matter how serious the injury, but Ms. Ramirez shushed her. "If you behave, I'll sneak you an extra chocolate pudding as a goodbye present for lunch tomorrow, _sí?_

Immediately Anna shut her mouth, making an exaggerated zipping motion across her mouth to emphasize the point. Ms. Ramirez was just about to leave as she added, as though an afterthought, "If you are so bored, Anna, you should try using that adequate brain of yours and read that book on your bedside."

_That book. _

Anna had all but forgotten the copy of _Pride and Prejudice_ sitting on her bedside table. She had spent the first day studying the copy, but aside from it's leather bound workmanship and girth, there was nothing outstanding about the book that marked it as worthy of Elsa's favor and affection. This love aside, the book held no immediate value or interest to Anna, especially due to her distaste for books. She had always struggled with her dyslexia, and while it had never impeded her performance in school quite to the extent that it could have, it had certainly derailed her love of great literature. Harry Potter had been an exception; Kristoff had read the books to her every evening in her younger days, and they held a warm reminder of their friendship as children.

Nevertheless, now that Anna was alone and her greatest source of interest was a blob of mystery meat, the book certainly held a mysterious quality to it. As though in a stare-down with the paper and binding, Anna narrowed her eyes at the novel, tapping her fingers rhythmically on her tray.

Finally, Anna picked up the book and pushed the untouched slop aside, holding it in front of her face. Sure enough, just as she had remembered, the book was bound in a deep rust-colored leather, with gold inlay detailing the title and author of the novel. If Anna were a more literary sole, it would have interested her to know that it was a first edition copy of the book, in excellent condition for it's age. It would have interested her that that particular copy had been worth tens of thousands of dollars, had been handled only with the utmost care of gloved professionals, had only ever been held by Elsa's hands. It would have interested her that it had been a birthday present on the eve of Elsa's twelfth year, and signified her hundredth read of the novel. It would have interested her that it was a shared affection for English literature between Elsa and her father that prompted this most sacred gift.

But Anna was not a literary sole, and therefore, as though she were some uncultured swine, flipped directly past the preliminary pages of the novel and directly to the denoted first chapter.

"Listen here, Janey," Anna wagged a finger at the print, as though she were scolding a child for stealing one too many brownies. "I know you're type. You wordy, Anglo-Saxon literates with your chapter long descriptions of a pebble in a cobblestone road and your woeful female characters who are thirsty as can be and your patriarchal, red-blooded story lines. But I happen to be fascinated by your owner. Therefore, we will attempt to form a relationship based on mutual respect and adoration of the great Elsa Arendelle, _capisce?"_

The book responded with a wordy silence.

Satisfied, Anna nodded to this newfound friend, and began to read the tale of William Darcy and a heroine of remarkable proportions, Elizabeth Bennet.

Anna, within the first fifty pages, had fallen in love. Not only was she entirely wrong about Jane Austen's "woeful female characters," she was also utterly surprised by the variety of likable characters provided in the canon. She could not help but giggle and the impropriety of Mr. Bingly, mentally chastising Darcy's malfeasance while making a mental note to modernize his jabs and use them in context. She was completely taken aback by the witty and realistic conversation between the women in the novel, often times about issues that had nothing to do with the men of the novel at all. She chuckled with Jane Bennet and smirked at Elizabeth Bennet's undeniable snark. She grew outraged at the injustice of society and romance that the novel pointed out, and was brought to tears when the heroines won their own personal battles. Needless to say, Anna gobbled the book up as though it were the only food she had eaten in days (which, judging by the quality of her own hospital meals, might as well have been true).

When the book finally came to a conclusion, Anna found herself staring through eyes blurred with tears out a window with the dawning sun allowing light to pool across her floor, though the sun itself was hidden. Her hands shook with emotion as she swallowed around the satisfied lump in her throat. Her thumb held her place on the very last page, as she did not want to believe the story had truly come to an end.

It had been quite some time since Anna had actually read a novel cover to cover, and while the pride of this accomplishment flooded her, she was distracted by her hunger for more.

_Oh Janey, forgive me. I was so wrong about you. _

Taking a deep, full swallow of air, Anna finally looked back down at the page, attempting as best she could to avoid dribbling tears on the pages of Elsa's novel. She realized, very suddenly, that she had lost herself in the story, had forgotten her purpose for reading the novel at all, and the reminder that now she was one step closer to knowing the mysterious blonde was shaking in and of itself. She was awed at the similarities of Jane and Elsa, strong and swift and soft, but evidently tricky and complete as well. The sentiment made the story all the better.

Anna treated the final pages with a reverence that was so unfamiliar to her fingers that they trembled. However, as she turned one of the last filler pages, a slip of a napkin fell from the folds. With a furrowed brow, Anna closed the book and picked up the napkin, before unfolding its contents. In the most precise, italicized and immaculate handwriting Anna had ever seen, a message was composed:

_Anna Bjorgman,_

_If you are reading this, then it is evident that you read more than just young adult fantasy (no matter how excellently composed and shaped) and therefore, I believe that entitles us to friendship. Forgive me, this note may be impersonal but I seem to have an issue talking around you. You seem to talk enough for both of us. _

_Please, do not injure this book. It is my most prized possession._

_-Elsa Arenedelle_

Bellow the message, a phone number was neatly printed. Needless to say, Anna all but had a conniption.

* * *

Not twelve hours later, Anna sat at the bar in the fabulous kitchen of their new home. It was still new, still had that fresh scent of adventure and secret, but Anna suddenly had never been more thankful for an edifice in her entire life. Her leg was propped up on a low stool, her leg wrapped in a disgustingly ugly brace, her lower half covered in goosebumps due to her inability to wear actual pants. Still, Anna could not complain. At least the dinner before her now was recognizable.

Kristoff and their father were shoveling the fresh snow off their driveway. This of course resulted in Kristoff grumblingly cursing the snow-gods, reminding anyone who would listen to him for more than two minutes that this much snow was "highly unlikely for Denver." Of course, no one listened to him for very long.

While it was no secret that the Bjorgman's were, despite their humble beginnings, fabulously wealthy, Andrew Bjorgman was a man of intense work ethic. He had always taught his children that wealth is neither curse nor right, but a gift to those who work for it. Therefore, they had lived their lives without a staff to do the menial tasks of every day life. While both Anna and Kristoff never much enjoyed these acts of labor, they valued their father's lessons, and both worked as hard as possible. After all, Kristoff would always say, how else does one build up such amazing biceps?

Still, even in this family of 'work hard play hard' mentality, Anna's injury had excused her from that particular family outing, and she opted instead to take the opportunity to gain a little motherly advice.

"Ma, I need to talk to you about something." Anna's mother chuckled, wiping her hands on her apron as she removed the dinner from the oven and placed it on the granite countertops.

"Well, you've already told your father and I about your sexuality dear; I don't think there's any reason to continue to use such a serious tone every time you need advice."

Anna flushed and stuck her tongue out at her mother. In Anna's family, there had never been a falter when it came to her orientation. One morning, she had walked downstairs, announced that she had a date with a woman that evening and a date with a boy the next, and that was that. The only response she received was the chiding of her father, suggesting that it was "unfair to date two different people one after the other, and that she should at least space out her dates a week at a time." There had been no other discussion of her attractions.

"C'mon, Tam, take me seriously!"

Her mother made a face as she tossed their salad. "Anna, do not call me 'Tam.' I am your mother, not your buddy. Also, that is a terrible nickname, especially if you wish to be taken seriously. Now," her mother finally stopped, leaning on her elbows against the counter, eyeing her daughter curiously, "what can your wise and bountiful mother do for you?"

Anna nearly choked on a retort, but spoke nonetheless. She told her of the mysterious girl who had delivered her to the hospital, cared for her until Kristoff had arrived, and then disappeared without a trace, only to reappear in Anna's life with a suspiciously intriguing and heart attack-inducing note in the back of a beautifully written book. Anna did not mention Elsa's name, for fear that her mother may wish to overly involve herself in her daughter's life as she so often was prone to doing.

"So now I have no idea what to do. I mean, Ma, this girl is probably the most gorgeous I have ever seen in my life and also totally straight and in college which is simultaneously hot and terrifying and she's just so interesting. And now I have this book, this SUPER expensive and prized book in my hands and I have to give it back but how am I even supposed to do that when I can't seem to do anything but blurt too much information about myself?"

For a moment, Tamera did not speak. She worried her bottom lip with her teeth, before taking a gracious sip of wine. Then, finally, she replied, "Anna dear, she left you her number, did she not?"

Anna pulled the note from her pocket, where she had safely stuffed it after recovering from losing all control over her cardiovascular system after it's discovery. "That's what these numbers are, or so the last eighteen years of my life tell me."

"And she clearly purposefully left the novel in your possession, yes? Her most prized object?"

Anna hadn't thought of that. But it was true, Elsa acknowledged leaving the book with Anna in her note. She did nothing but nod, re-reading the message for the hundredth time.

Her mother finished her wine, before smiling. "Then it seems for some reason that this girl finds your so called 'rambling mess' appealing. Now, as you pointed out, you have no way of finding out this girl's level of attraction to you from your interactions. But she clearly wishes to see you again, whether as a friend or something else. You'll never know if you don't contact her, Anna. Besides, if that novel is as pricey as you described, it must be returned one way or another."

She softened then, adding, "Besides, dear. I haven't seen you this worked up over someone, maybe ever. You owe it to yourself to chase after her, don't you?"

Anna couldn't help the affectionate smile that peeled across her face. She tucked the note safely back into her pocket and resolved to definitely, positively, absolutely, resolutely not chicken out, and to contact Elsa that evening after dinner. If nothing else, she owed Elsa a thank you for providing her the literary experience of a lifetime.

Also, she owed Elsa a thank you for being the hottest being alive, but perhaps she would address that issue on the second date.

**A/N: Thanks so much for anyone who has reviewed or followed or even liked this story! I know you were all hoping for more Elsanna tension, but I wanted to develop Anna a little further because come one, us redheads have to stick together! The next chapter will be from Elsa's point of view, and because I am officially off Spring Break, updates will be regular. Thanks for your continued support and your kind words! Much love!**


	4. Meet The Arendelles

It was a strange feeling, Elsa realized, to be completely and utterly separated from the one object that she maintained consistently on her person at all times. True, though she had willingly given up the object for more valuable pursuits, its absence gnawed at her stomach.

_What if she doesn't read it? What if she jut thinks I left it there? What if she never returns it? What if she doesn't call me?_

In her silent solitude, Elsa tried to remind herself to be realistic. She had grown up as a quiet young woman, not stand-offish or particularly snobby despite her socioeconomic status, but rather as a product of crippling anxiety at a young age. When her mother had left their family in the prime peak of her adolescence, Elsa had shut in on herself, internalizing her issues, refusing to feel any of the pain that she watched her father suffer. Only in solitude, quietly behind the ajar door of his study, did Frédéric allow himself to mourn the loss of his wife. It was a clinical mourning, certainly, never filled with tears or uncontrollable shaking, but mourning nonetheless. Elsa had not been so fortunate.

_Don't be ridiculous, Elsa, _she could hear the familiar internal monologue that so often kept her company, _You saw the way she fell all over you. _

That was certainly undeniable. It seemed the young Anna Bjorgman had found herself quite taken with Elsa, and Elsa could not particular say that she minded. The younger woman was clearly humorous, and had a kind and loving soul under that flaming auburn hair and disgusting potty mouth.

The thought brought smile to Elsa's face from behind the pages of her novel. She could not swallow the stretching of her cheeks at the image of a very flustered and clearly enamored girl flailing in embarrassment.

"Uh oh, Marsh," a small voice from behind her muttered cheerfully, "Elsa's got that look on her face again."

The younger of her brothers, Marcus, though affectionately deemed Marshmallow due to his broad shoulder and chubbier stature, only replied with a low rumble of a laugh. Elsa's smile grew. If there was anything that could make her feel carefree and content, it was the two wonderful little boys she called her siblings.

"Is that your business, Olaf," Elsa's voice lilted with teasing, "Or mine?"

Olaf of course burst into giggles, his cover clearly blown, and trounced over the back of the couch, landing full force in Elsa's stomach. She attempted as best she could to conceal her sudden lack of breath as she laughed and pushed him off of her. Marcus dutifully followed his older brother, a smile not unlike Elsa's plastered on his round face.

Elsa closed her book, setting it safely aside and away from Olaf's notoriously destructive path. "What are you boys up to?"

Marcus spoke up, considering Olaf had clearly forgotten their purpose in coming to Elsa's personal library. "Dinner's ready." His countenance far more like Elsa's, Marcus had knack for remembering details and succeeding academically. He then turned, groaning softly as he realized Olaf was now seeing how high he could jump on a very expensive plush love seat. Grumbling something about maturity, he padded over to his elder brother, grabbed his collar on a downbeat, and proceeded to delicately drag him across the floor as Olaf shouted, "Hey wait! Marsh! Stop! I was in the middle of something!"

Elsa could not help but giggle and stood, stretching her back delicately as though she were a cat who had just awoken from a very long, very enjoyable nap. She popped nearly every joint in her body, satisfied by the sound and the relief that accompanied such control over one's own anatomy. She threw a glance in the direct of the love-seat, only to find a rather prominent and newly formed lump in the center of the leather, and could not help but demurely giggle.

Dinner was an interesting affair in House Arendelle. Her father was a stern but sweet man, especially when it came to his children, but having grown up in a traditionally Belgium and politically powerful family, Frédéric had a certain reverence for the posh qualities of life. Thus, dinner was a formal matter. This required clothing thought appropriate for a small dinner party, even when the party was no larger than their family. Elsa always ensured that she did not change before she was called for dinner.

It was one of the quirks she had always found so intriguing about her father. He was a man of staunch tradition and formality, had never really known anything different, but when Olaf, Marcus and their mother had burst into their lives like a meteorite, alterations began to bubble under the surface of their formally pristinely posh lives. Before the boys, a servant was always sent to fetch Elsa. Now, she had not been fetched by a maid in years. It was a warm, charming quality of her new life.

Elsa's father always sat at the head of the table, a pleasant man to look at, clearly powerful in his handling of his family. Elsa's stepmother, Denise, sat opposing him. Denise could not have been more different than Elsa's father; this was a fact that Elsa had realized very early on in their relationship. There was nothing refined about her, and she knew for a fact that she had not come from a high brow family. Denise was born in a small suburb outside of Denver, where her father's company and home office had been firmly established, and up until her union with Frédéric had never left Colorado. Nonetheless, she was a beautifully poised and wonderful woman. What she lacked in elegance, she made up for in over-bounding charm and warmth. Elsa hardly admitted such things, but she often wished Denise were her mother. She valued the woman's opinion as much as her father, and had loved her from the moment they first met.

Denise, though from a poor family, had worked incredibly hard, Elsa knew that much for sure. She had paid for her own private education, opposed to student loans, and years later returned for her degree from medical school. It had been more than a personal victory, she had once mentioned over coffee on what she fondly referred to as "mother-daughter dates." Elsa loved these coffee breaks between classes.

She did not know much of her father and stepmother's relationship before their marriage. Two years after her tenth birthday when her mother unceremoniously stared at her with cold, unfeeling eyes and immediately packed her bags and trod out the door, Elsa was introduced to this new woman. She had been thin and tall, with legs for miles and dark, ebony skin that shined in the sun. Her jet black hair had appeared almost navy in the direct sunlight, and glossed and shined down her back. She had what Elsa considered the most genuine look in her eyes that could ever have been possible. From the minute she smiled, bright teeth on a dark back ground, Elsa had accepted her as her mother. There had been no question of it. Denise had taken her hand, and treated her like a human being as opposed to a foolish young woman whose mother did not want her. It had been love at first sight.

When a year and a half later, Denise gave birth to Olaf, Elsa was certain that her life could not have gotten any better. He was a wily one, a handsome boy with his father's blue eyes and mother's dark hair and skin. Marcus soon followed, and for the first time, maybe in her whole life, Elsa finally considered her house a home. Though the additions to her family did not entirely quell her anxiety and fierce bouts with depression, they were a balm to an old wound, and their love had made her the woman she was.

"You're quiet tonight, Elsa," her father's tenor roused her from her reminiscing, and Elsa found herself looking up from her salmon to find his calm and gentle smile, so like hers, gracing his features. "_Qu'est-ce qui te préoccupe?" _

Elsa grinned, bowing her head apologetically. "_Je suis père désolé. J'étais perdu dans mes pensées." _

She could already hear groaning from the opposite side of the table. Elsa and her father shared a rare and mischievous smile. "Honestly you two, how many times do I have to say it? No french at the dinner table!" The laughter in Denise's voice was ever-present. "It makes it so much more difficult to enjoy Gerda's cooking."

Olaf happily agreed around a mouth stuffed full of roasted red potato, though added after swallowing, "Though ya know, Mom, I don't even think Dad and Elsa could ruin Gerda's cooking."

Marcus silently punched Olaf in the arm. Elsa could not help but feel her heart soar with pride in her family.

A buzz from the pocket of her dress immediately reminded her that she was, in fact, expecting some sort of contact from Anna. Her first foolish reaction was to reach into her dress and whip out the phone. Bad luck. It was no one other than her best friend, Belle, asking for news on the "Ginger Situation," as she had taken to calling it.

_Anything from Ginger Rampage? _

Elsa could not help but smirk. She and Belle had immediately clicked upon their very first meeting. They were both easily the most well-read in their fifth grade class, and thusly decided they were both the most deserving of one another's company. While this original attraction had been shallow at best, they realized they had much more in common than a reading list, and had been inseparable ever since.

_B, you can't call her Ginger Rampage. You don't even know her. _

While they may have been very similar in their interests, the two girls were fairly different in disposition. While Elsa was practical and firm, Belle was the ultimate dreamer, constantly feeding off her own ambition. Where Elsa was quiet and observant, Belle was strong willed and opinionated. Where Elsa was occasionally plagued by her own self-doubt and frustration, Belle was confident and quick-witted, and never ceased to remind Elsa that if the great and wonderful Belle Marié Derosiers had chosen her as a friend, then clearly she was worth her weight in gold.

_Neither do you, E. And yet you gave her your number and your copy of P&P. _

_That is very uncharacteristic of you, Elsa Arendelle. _

That much was true. Giving Anna not only her prized possession, a piece of her very soul was risky business. Giving her her number was a death sentence.

_Don't read into it. She was a nice young woman, and all nice young women should be exposed to Austen. She seems as though she may be a good friend. _

That wasn't a lie. True, Elsa was flattered utterly by the affection and clear admiration Anna provided her, but her provision of her phone number and the delivery of the book had been a simple mean to an end: to become friends with this ridiculously loud and unusual girl. Anna had an intoxicating quality about her, one that drew Elsa from her normally hesitant shell and into laughter. That much was completely clear.

_All I'm saying is I have to approve before she takes you on a date._

The blush that colored Elsa's cheeks was instantaneous and beyond furious. It crept up the back of her neck, originating between her shoulder blades, licked at her ears like fire, before engulfing her entire face. Suddenly she found she could not swallow around the lump in her throat.

Her sexuality was a touchy subject with Elsa, to say the least. True, though she had never found men all that appealing, she convinced herself that this was not a result of homosexual tendencies but rather her inability to open up enough to meet "the right guy." Her time would come. Surely, her time would come.

Belle's comment had clearly been meant as a joke, but Elsa knew deep inside that her own self-conscious nature and fear of her family's potential disdain was overwhelming. Elsa didn't want to be gay, therefore she refused to believe anything of the sort. She didn't want to be. She didn't want to be.

Just as she was about to reprimand Belle for such lewd conduct, a deep clearing of the throat caught her attention. "Elsa," her father chastised, "You know better than to have your cell phone out at this table."

Elsa's blush deepened, and she swallowed thickly, but her throat was still too dry to accomplish anything. Hesitantly, she opened her mouth to apologize, but Denise saved her the trouble. "Freddie, the girl is twenty years old, nearly twenty-one. We can hardly expect her to not text at our table." Denise tossed her a genuine grin, winking. Elsa mouthed a quick, completely sincere thank you.

Her father, ever warmed by Denise's presence, immediately laughed, and acquiesced to his wive's command. Before any other uncomfortable situations could arise (and before she passed out due to the complete redirection of all of the blood in her body to her face,) Elsa asked to be excused from the table. Her father nodded his consent, and the servants came to clean her area. She stood, refolding her napkin, before kissing her father's head, coming around the other side of the table to ruffle both of the boys' hair, and kissing Denise's cheek, this time whispering her thanks aloud.

Once sheltered in the solitude of her room, Elsa breathed in deeply. Suddenly it felt as though she simply could not get enough oxygen. She switched on her fan and immediately set out for her bathroom, hopefully to take a cool and relaxing shower to ease the heat away from her body. She did not want to even respond to Belle, for fear that she would have to admit how strangely the message had made her react. She did not have time nor the emotional stability to question the source of her odd actions.

Elsa turned the tap and quickly undressed, wanting nothing more than to immerse herself in cold, to numb herself to the question that she begged to ask.

_Why did you take such an interest in Anna?_

_Why are you so jumpy every time your phone buzzes?_

_Why doesn't it bother you that she has a clear infatuation with you?_

_Why did you stay to help her at the hospital? That's fair more than just being friendly. _

_Why are you so desperate for her to call?_

_Porquoi voulez-vous la connataître?_

_Porquoi voulez-vous la connataître?_

_Porquoi voulez-vous la connataître?_

The familiarity of the French and the soothing bathroom candles she had just lit encased her, shielded her from her own consciousness. The questions could not penetrate her here. She was in her own sanctuary. Elsa turned up her music, specifically her French reading playlist, and stepped into her shower, allowing herself to be swept away by the sounds of her language and the smells of lemonwood and vanilla and the feeling of cold water relieving her of every negative heat in the world.

She could have been in that shower for hours, maybe even days. She thought of nothing but the repetition of sweet conjugations and accented vowels. Her ancestor's language was not lost on her, and she savored every beautiful French syllable. Like decadent desserts on her tongue, she consumed the language and relied on in to bring her relaxation in even her tensest of moments.

When she finally realized her skin had shriveled at the tips of her fingers and toes, Elsa stepped out of her sanctuary, feeling far more refreshed and relaxed than she had upon entering it. Again, she languidly and stretched, a careful little smile finding it's place on her lips. In soft silence, she went through her evening routine, running luscious cremes through her hair and applying smooth lotion on her skin, before brushing her teeth, changing into more casual wear and retiring to her armchair by a fire that, evidently, one of the servants had lit for her while she bathed. They were certainly attentive, and rightly so for the amount of money her father paid them.

Reserved to the novel she had fetched from her library, she returned to the throughs of literature, her mind swept away by the comfort of adjectives and swift-worded and jaunts. The smile on her face was on of contentedness and ease. For a moment, she did not question herself, nor those around her. She did not think of what would happen if and when she was expected to take over her father's company. She did not think of what it would mean to return to university after her winter vacation had come to an end. She did not think of her mother, the woman who gave birth to her, not the one who raised her, the one with the platinum blonde hair and high cheek bones and perpetual scowl. She did not think of Belle's unintentional trigger of a panic attack. She did not think of Anna, at all.

That is, until her phone buzzed.

Her first thought, to her ultimate dismay, was of Anna. It was of floppy auburn hair falling into teal eyes, of twin braids on either shoulder, of a potty mouth shaped by lips that were so pink and soft-looking that Elsa had blanched upon seeing them, of nervous fingers and a slightly upturned, crooked nose. Her first thought was of this girl that had somehow drawn her attention like no one else, and while it was not strange for people to immediately think on those they wanted so desperately to be friends with, Elsa could not determine WHY she so desperately sought Anna's friendship. While she was certainly interesting and beautiful, she hardly knew this girl. She only knew that when Anna had smiled at her, in any way, that she had felt instantly more strong and brave.

She swept these thoughts out of her mind, demanding that she pay them no attention. She did not want to linger on them or their implications.

Sure enough, when she read the message her heart hit her diaphragm.

_This is Anna Bjorgman. Clever one, you are. You probably knew I would lose my mind with boredom and be forced to read your book. Well you were right. And it was wonderful._

Elsa's heart thundered. _She liked Austen._

_I am very pleased you enjoyed it, Anna. She is a true genius. _

Elsa's fingers shook as she waited for a response. She did not wish to dwell on this reactions. She forced herself to remain cool, and at least feign interest in her novel as opposed to continually checking her phone.

_You clearly have good taste. You also clearly know more about this stuff than I do. Want to meet for coffee sometime and talk about it? Books I mean. Not us. Why would we talk about us? I mean unless you want to talk about us in which case I'm an open book. Haha. Pun not intended, but hopefully appreciated._

Instantly, Elsa felt relief pulse through her veins. She had forgotten how nervous Anna was around her, as well. Clearly she had not read through that message, or she would have realized her rambling. The shaking in her fingers eased, and instead she merely smiled.

_Coffee sounds excellent, though I prefer hot chocolate. I'll bring a few more books if you're interested. _

Anna's response made her heart swell.

_Definitely. It's a date. _

**Author's Note: Thank you all for your continued support! I think I've decided I will be updating from here on out on Wednesdays and Saturdays, so make sure you're looking out for that! I hope you have enjoyed my characterization and exploration of Elsa and her family. As you may have noticed, Elsa's step mother and brothers are indeed POC, which was super important to me because representation is super important. Also, I think it's really important to explore how broken families can be both positive and negative, and I hope you guys don't mind that exploration. I know most of you are just here for the fluff, but I'm afraid I'll be delivering more than just that. Once again, thanks you guys and much love!**


	5. It's A Date

"Literally Kristoff I am never listening to any advice you ever give me again. You are a little shit and I hate you. Fucking die." Anna was on the verge of hyperventilating, her hand clenched around her phone, white-knuckled and pulled taut. Through clenched teeth, she launched verbal knives at her brother, hoping that her voice conveyed her utter disdain for his mere existence at the moment.

Judging by his nonchalant laughter, it certainly did not.

"Relax, Anna. You sound like you're pacing. Are you pacing in public?"

Anna stopped and sent a contemptuous look downward at her feet. Sure enough, the other Starbucks patrons were sending her the strangest of looks, though she could certainly justify their glances. Who wouldn't stare at a strange, redheaded woman with the mouth of a sailor and the anxious legs of a new father?

"Fuck you, Kris," Anna spat, slumping down into an open chair and beginning to drum her fingers over the table top.

For a moment, the siblings sat in silence, neither speaking, the cell phone's almost inaudible buzzing the only reminder that they were still actually connected. Finally, Anna spoke up.

"I should have just given the book to you. You could have given it back to her. Then you could have dated her. And fallen madly in love. And married her. And bedded her. And then we could be sisters and then maybe I wouldn't feel so fucking weird about her and oh God what if I act like a complete and utter idiot and she hates me? Kristoff this was literally the worst idea you have ever had like even worse than snowboarding oh my god what if she hates me?"

Across the line, Kristoff gave an audible sigh, though it sounded a bit muffled. Anna could imagine him leaned over his books, their dog Sven situated happily in his lap, as her brother yet again tried to be the logical and reasonable one between the two. Anna instantly felt guilt twist into her stomach. She hadn't meant to shout at him, really.

"Anna," his voice sounded heavy, "do you want to get to know this girl? On whatever level you can?"

It was true. Elsa attracted Anna, not simply because she was beautiful, but because she was funny and gentle and smart. Because Elsa had helped a complete stranger who had just nearly run her over on a snowboard to a hospital, and then stayed to care for her until her family arrived. Because Elsa had demonstrated her faith in Anna, and left her in trust of her prized possession. Because Elsa had wanted to meet her, a lowly high school senior with a leg brace and freckles. Elsa had demonstrated true kindness, and Anna was reacting like a magnet.

"Yes."

"Then stop being worried. If you don't want to freak her out or come off too flirtatious, try getting to know her as a person. I mean, Jesus, it's not like you haven't just been friends with straight girls before, right? You aren't an animal. Besides, you don't even know that she's straight."

Anna scoffed. "Did you see the way she looked at you Kris?"

Kristoff finally chuckled. "Yeah, well, I'm a god among men. Regardless, quit being heteronormative. You don't know anything about her, at least not internally. Learn to be her friend, and the rest will fall into place. Right?"

Anna hated to admit it, but Kristoff definitely had a point. She was no instinctual beast who had to go ravaging the kingdoms of beautiful girls. If the truth was told, she wanted to be friends with Elsa more than anything. Sure, friends who occasionally cuddled and made out, but maybe that step could be saved for a little later.

"I hate you. Goodbye Kristoff." In Anna-speak, that typically meant that she was defeated and her brother was right. She could almost hear his stupid smirk.

"I love you too, fiestypants. Have fun. Buy her coffee." And with that, the call was abruptly ended.

Taking a deep breath, Anna ran a hand through her fringe and observed herself. Plain jeans, her favorite green and red flannel, a leather jacket she had nicked from a thrift store ages ago on a dare, and brown combat boots, with her bright auburn hair tied back in a pony tail and her bangs flopped over her face. She supposed, really, that she looked alright in a stereotypical kind of way, if one could ignore that external brace she had to wear. That morning had been the first time she had attempted make-up all winter break, and she was pleased with the result.

_Friends don't worry about whether their friends look hot, idiot,_ she internally chided herself, and began instead to play pedantic games on her phone to distract herself from the fact that, for the first time in her entire life, she was early for anything.

* * *

Elsa could not stop pacing around the parking lot of the Starbucks they had agreed to meet at. From the corner of her eye, through the window, she could see Anna nearly mirroring her pacing, and felt her heart jump into her throat. Her hand clenched on her phone. "Belle, oh my God, this girl is adorable."

Belle groaned loudly, and Elsa could have sworn she heard her best friend flop backwards onto a bed. "Elsa, you're being ridiculous."

The blonde wanted to scream, and that was something she so rarely wanted to do. Her anxiety was balled up in the pit of her stomach like a cat clawing at her, despite the fact that she had actually taken her medicine that morning. She inhaled deeply, trying to calm herself and dismiss the idea that Anna could potentially see her lurking in the parking lot behind trucks and avoiding large piles of cleared snow.

"She's pacing, B. I'm pacing. We are both pacing. We are both talking on the phone and pacing. I am panicking. I am definitely panicking."

Her best friend inhaled deeply over the phone, evidently realizing that Elsa was actually on the verge of a meltdown. "Els, breathe for me babe. You're alright. You're safe. Nothing is going to hurt you."

For some reason, the familiar words in Belle's voice made her shoulders stop shaking. Elsa did as she was instructed and took a deep breath, relishing the fullness of her diaphragm and the warmth of her own exhale filling the cold air around her. Over the years, it seemed as though Belle had learned to recognize the emotions Elsa felt before they even overwhelmed her, and quelled the storm before it hit. Elsa would have to remember to one day thank her for that.

When her heart stopped throbbing in her chest, Elsa finally spoke, quietly now, "Thank you. I needed that."

Belle made a soft, understanding noise. "I know meeting new people freaks you out. It's okay. She's just a girl, and obviously she's pretty nervous too. You're both overlooking the facts though. Be analytical, E. She offered you coffee. She wants to hang out with you, maybe become friends with you. And she wants you to talk about books! Other than me and chocolate, what do you love more than books?"

Elsa tried to stop her smile, but she couldn't. Belle was absolutely right. She had nothing to worry about. The facts stood to reason that Anna wanted to see her, get to know her, learn more about books and what Elsa was interested in. That was the basis of friendship, after all. And Elsa certainly wanted to be friends with this odd young woman.

The pacing slowed to a stop. Elsa squared her shoulders, the pleasant smile now on her face. She loved it when Belle was right. "I love you, did you know that?"

Belle snorted. "Jesus Elsa, I just said it. Of course I know that."

Elsa rolled her eyes, hanging up on Belle and sliding her phone into her pocket. Everything was going to turn out fine. And besides, she was certainly ready to have her book back. She was starting to miss Elizabeth Bennet.

* * *

"Anna?"

Anna head bounced up, as though she had been shocked. And there, before her, was the most beautiful electrifying force in the world. Sleek, blonde hair was pushed back by an icy blue headband, while the rest of her long heir fell down in a column over one shoulder, flowing. Anna wasn't sure if she liked Elsa's hair down or in a braid better, but she decided it didn't matter. It was lovely either way. Elsa evidently had an excellent fashion sense, in a pair of (ungodly) tight black jeans and a dark blue sweater that fit her perfectly. She was a sight for sore eyes, in every sense of the phrase.

Anna couldn't help the splitting grin that covered her face.

"Elsa. Hi! Good to see you! Crap, uh, sit down! Here, I have your book. Oh my God, why didn't you tell me it was so good? Like normally I'm not in to all of that Victorian age nonsense because you know feminism and misogyny don't exactly play nice together unless they're drunk and having angry sex I mean I guess some feminists do that wait what am I even talking about?"

Elsa let out a very un-ladylike snort, and any residual fear that may have sat in her belly dissipated like melted snow. Oh yeah. She could definitely be friends with this girl.

"I have no clue. Absolutely none."

Normally, Anna would have blushed at someone being so blunt and calling her out on her rambling, but the grin on Elsa's face warmed her to the core. She couldn't be embarrassed, not if she had made Elsa smile.

Anna could feel her legs and arms relaxing. After years of playing soccer, it seemed that these muscles were the most trained, and the most reflexively tight when she was nervous. But sharing a laugh with Elsa made them relax almost instantly, and she could feel comfort suddenly wafting off of her.

"I'm going to grab drinks. I'll be back. Please, get reacquainted with your old friend here." In her newfound comfort, Anna had completely forgotten to ask what Elsa would want. This of course did not occur to Anna by the time she reached the cashier, but she decided that by that point she had to play it cool.

Elsa allowed her fingers to explore the cover and pages of the book like the face of a long forgotten love. She smiled when she realized that there were no dog-eared creases on her beloved novel, nor scuffs on the binding, nor canyons between pages where the book made have been split down the middle to save a spot. Anna had evidently read the novel in one sitting, and had clearly been careful with the book. The thought made Elsa's already present smile widen even further. She had not been lying; Anna really had enjoyed Austen.

When Anna returned, she sheepishly grinned down at Elsa, trying to hide the limp in her braced leg. "Totally realized I forgot to get your drink order, so I went on a hunch. You looked like a peppermint girl, and I know you said you liked hot chocolate, so I got you a dark peppermint chocolate, with whipped cream. I mean, who doesn't like whipped cream?"

Though Elsa had never been very adventurous with her Starbucks order, the look on Anna's face was so adorably embarrassed that she knew she could not turn the drink down. With a word of gratitude, Elsa reached for the drink and took a tentative sip.

Heaven exploded behind her eyes, and for a moment she considered the idea that she may have lost consciousness.

Anna fought the blush that snuck up the back of her neck at the down right moan that quietly snuck out of Elsa's throat when she tasted the hot chocolate. Anna applauded herself for following her intuition. It always seemed to know better than her conscious mind.

When Elsa finally rose from her daze, she lowered the drink, a look of utterly contented shock on her face. Anna grinned, redness still coloring her ears. "You sure are easily pleased."

Elsa goofily grinned, a sight that was so rare that even Anna could recognize its oddity, despite only knowing Elsa for a short time. "You must be an angel. Or a saint. Because this is the work of divine magnitude. What, did dislocating your knee grant you superpowers or something?" Elsa smirked at her own joke. Comedy was not her strong suit, but it seemed anything was easier around Anna.

Anna feigned distaste. "Everyone seems to be greatly over exaggerating the extent of my injury. First my parents and Kristoff think I'm going to die, then you think I've been bitten by some sort of radioactive snow spider!"

Elsa rolled her eyes, sipping the heavenly drink again. "You know, I have never been very adventurous with my Starbucks drinks. Maybe you can teach me a little something about that?"

Anna grinned. The prospect of spending more time with Elsa seemed like the best idea in the world. "I tell you what, Elsa Arendelle. You teach me about books, I'll teach you about Starbucks."

"I have a feeling you and I could learn a lot from each other. Like how to snowboard." SInce when did Elsa tease? She could feel pride bubbling in her stomach at the interestedly shocked look on Anna's face.

"No way in hell are you getting me on one of those death traps. Not you, not Kristoff, not anyone."

"Don't challenge me, Anna. I always win." Anna tried to ignore how positively delightful it must be to be defeated by Elsa.

For the next few hours, the girls loitered, talking about everything under the sun and spending approximately fifty dollars on overpriced drinks. Their conversation had shifted a thousand different times, from favorite types of animals to the complex state of the US Congress to vacation spots to integral calculus.

"Explain to me," Anna shook her head in disbelief, "why anyone would want to learn calculus?"

Elsa smirked. "Because I am an architecture major. Because it will one day be my job to ensure that the production of high-rises and skyscrapers and edifices of grandeur are built such that they are both functional and beautiful. That's why."

Anna made a face. "Yeah, how about no. I think I'll stick to medicine."

Elsa raised her brow. "Really? You know, medicine involves a fair bit of math as well, and a tremendous amount of science."

Anna grinned, replying only with, "Science is fun. And besides, medicine helps people. What better job could there be?"

Warmth spread through Elsa's body. How could anyone be so loving to the whole world?

Anna stood, a huge smile placidly sitting on her face. "Come on. I'm wasting all my money on coffee, and none of it on books. Isn't that what we were supposed to be doing anyway?"

Elsa's brow scrunched together, but she too stood. "Where are we going, exactly?"

Confidently, Anna grabbed Elsa's hand and turned, strutting toward the door. "Bookstore, obviously." She did not see the flush that immediately filled Elsa's face.

When Elsa found herself standing beside a steel gray 2014 Lexus ES, clearly new, washed, and as close to god-like cleanliness as any drivable machine could be, she was astonished to say the least. As she slipped into the driver's side, Anna giggled. "Shut your mouth, Arendelle. You could catch flies with that gape. What, didn't you know girls like me love cars?"

Elsa shook her head, grinning and sat neatly in the passenger's side. "It's not that. It's just… Well you're so clumsy, Anna. I would have figured your car would be a complete wreck, and that your parents would not trust you with such a pristine vehicle."

Anna scoffed, plunging them onto the freeway with complete and utter control. Elsa told herself to quite staring. No one should be this attractive when they simply drove a car, handsome though both driver and automobile may have been. "You of all people should know better than to judge a book by it's cover, Elsa."

As Anna fiddled with the radio, it occurred to her that she needed to apologize to Elsa. She had come off far to strong upon their first encounter. There had been about a thousand different things Anna had definitely not planned on saying, had no place to say, and yet they had come tumbling out. Kristoff had told her that she appeared like as though she were a bumbling, love struck puppy, and after finally talking and getting to know Elsa, after clearing the fog of burning attraction, Anna realized her brother was right. She had made a fool out of herself, and objectified Elsa. She had been silly, and let a physical infatuation get in the way of her getting to know Elsa.

"Anna? You've clicked through all of the radio stations thrice now. I don't think the songs have changed in the last five minutes."

Anna paused, laughing sheepishly, settling for silence instead, before clearing her throat.

"Are you okay, Anna? I didn't actually mean to offend you."

"What? Oh, oh God no, you didn't." Anna shook herself, placing both hands on the wheel and squeezing to relieve some pressure. "No, not at all. I just… I wanted to apologize for the way I acted. When we first met, I mean. I was a little flustered, I guess."

Elsa could not help her blush. "Oh. Well, I thought you were quite endearing."

Anna grinned, looking over at the small smile on Elsa's face. "I just got a little distracted, is all. You're really beautiful. I kind of let it go to my head. It made me just start spewing nonsense. For instance, I'm not actually gay."

Elsa's brow shot into her hairline. "No?"

Anna smirked. "Nope. I mean, I'm definitely into girls. And guys. I'm bi. I mean, I'm cool with gay girls and everything; they're amazing, but I'm not one of them. I just got so flustered around you and when you thought I was dating my brother I just kind of freaked out and figured that was the easiest thing to say. I hope that doesn't weird you out, by the way. You know, being friends with one of us queer folk."

A soft smile dissolved over Elsa's face. How could this girl, this wonderfully kind and hilarious young woman, believe anything as inconsequential as who she loved would get in the way of their friendship? "Anna. I think you're amazing. Who you love does not change that."

Anna outright beamed, her heart thundering with pride. "You think I'm amazing?"

Elsa grinned right back as they pulled into one of the local Barnes and Nobles'. "How could I not?"

Anna tried not to let that statement flush all of her reasoning and friendly feelings for Elsa out of her system. She tried not to let the booming of her heart and the rush of blood through her body and the sudden warmth in her stomach distract her from this newfound friendship. But when Elsa leaned over and bumped her shoulder against Anna's as they walked to the doors, Anna knew beyond shadow of a doubt that she could never, in her eyes, just see Elsa as a friend. No. She was too much for just that title. She was her friend, now, new and interesting, and she hoped she would be her friend later, familiar and comforting. But she knew in her heart she would always feel butterflies around Elsa Arendelle.

* * *

Watching Elsa in a bookstore was an event no human being should ever miss. She was meticulous in her choice of books, calculating and clinical, measuring every aspect of the book's existence, before choosing whether to accept it as useful or not. Anna did not question, merely shadowing the girl until the pile of books Elsa kept handing her was starting to strain her arms and set her wobbly walk off balance. "Uh, Elsa? I'm in a brace, you know."

Elsa paused, realizing that she was unintentionally forcing Anna to carry all the books, blanched, and immediately sat them down on a very plush looking couch. Anna just giggled, folding her legs under her and listening to Elsa sheepishly explain the premise and highlights of way it was absolutely necessary for every human being alive, but Anna especially, to have read these novels. Elsa only stopped when Anna plucked the final book from her hand, turned her body so that her back hit Elsa' shoulder, and leaned into her. "You're adorable. Now quit talking and let me read."

Anna did not see the blush, nor the grin, nor the immediate comfort that rendered Elsa speechless. She did not feel the relaxing of a grip that was so tightly maintained on manicured emotions that it often left Elsa breathless. She did not hear Elsa's breathing slip into a slow and steady rhythm. She did not know that Elsa did not like being touched by people she did not know exceptionally well, and she did not know that Elsa suffered from severe social anxiety. She did not know that Elsa had never felt so comfortable with anyone so quickly in her life.

Just like that, Anna was added to the tremendously short list of people Elsa trusted on sight. Just like that, she was placed among Denise and Belle. And when Elsa loved, she did not stop.

The smile on Elsa's face burned, like a light to all who could ever see it. That, she decided, was a smile to be reserved for Anna, and Anna alone. More comfortable than she had ever been in her life, Elsa curled her legs around and allowed Anna to have better support from her shoulder, and opened a book of her own.

**Author's Note: Hey guys! First and foremost, let me apologize profusely for not updating last night. I was violently ill and could not finish the editing process. I hope you appreciate this belated addition of the Billionaire's Daughter. For those of you wondering, this WILL be a romantic story between our two protagonists, but it will be a slow and purposeful relationship. I hate the idea of rushing through the beauty that is feminine friendship. Please, be patient with me! You shall have your romantic bullshit soon enough! ;) Much love!**

**-Abby**


	6. Have a Very Merry Christmas

**Author's Note: THIS IS SUPER IMPORTANT, PLEASE READ THIS. While I really hate doing these damn things at the beginning of fics, I felt the need to bring this to the forefront of your attention. I have been approached privately by a former reader of this story who somehow found out some information about me that they believed disqualified me from writing this story. I was horrified that they would judge me based on such pity things, but they suggested that I was "lying to you all" about my identity, so allow me to be crystal clear. My name is Abby, and I am a cishet white female. There, there's the big secret that kept this person from reading my story. Let me be frank. I will do my very best to never represent the characters or the qualities of these characters in an offensive or derisive manner. I am merely writing characters. These characters, in my opinion, are valued higher than their gender, race, or sexuality, and to suggest that I am incapable of writing a diverse cast of characters on all of the above accounts due to my own traits is ridiculous. However, if you believe that, please stop reading. If not, thank you for your support and intelligence. If I ever misrepresent anything in this story, about anyone or any quality, please, privately message me and I will immediately fix my offense, because I am in no way intending to offend. Before I write any of these characters, I have spoken extensively to my friends who represent certain traits of the characters in this story, purely for the purpose of NOT offending. Thank you. Now, let's get back to the story. **

For the remainder of the week leading up to Christmas, Elsa and Anna spoke daily. Often times they would send one another quotes from their current reading list, laughing at the most ridiculous ones out of context and discussing at length the more earth-shattering quotations. They also sent one another pictures of baby animals, an evident habit that Anna was quick to share with Elsa. Though she found it a bit strange that the majority of the pictures on the young woman's phone were baby animal pictures, she did not question the joy that exploded through text at a well placed puppy picture.

It was becoming rather apparent to Elsa that she genuinely enjoyed pleasing Anna. Her happiness felt whole, real and tangible. So many of Elsa's friends liked to mask their emotions, hiding behind their fathers' surnames and politeness, but Anna wasn't like Elsa's other friends. The grating awkwardness that had bundled between them was now gone, replaced only with the warmth of friendship and sincere affection. True, while Elsa found she could hardly stop herself from accepting Anna's hug at the end of their "friend-date," as Anna had called it, and while she found her mind lingering on the intricacies of her new friend more and more, she could not help but embrace the sweet comfort of having someone else to call home.

"Earth to Elsa. Elsa? Els? Jesus." Belle groaned, snapping her fingers in front of her best friends face. "Wake the hell up, E."

The earth was suddenly very pliant on the bottoms of her feet, and her mind spun with the realization that she had been miles away, yet again dwelling on the strange friendship she had kindled with Anna. Her eyes flitting to Belle's exasperated yet concerned face, Elsa cleared her throat and ran a hand back through her bangs. "Sorry, B. I was off in my own world."

Belle, satisfied that her best friend was no longer dead to the world, returned to an animated discussion with Jasmine and Pocahontas. "Now that the Queen has chosen to grace us with her presence," Belle elbowed Elsa sharply in the ribs to emphasize her point, and Elsa tried not to let her embarrassment force her to pass out, "Explain why your dad won't let you date Al?"

Jasmine groaned. Elsa suddenly felt horrible. Had she really floated off to some far off dream while her friend suffered?

"It's ridiculous stuff, really," Jasmine's voice quivered, though she did her best not to cry. Pocahontas took their friend's hand and squeezed. "He thinks that Aladdin isn't "Muslim enough" for a woman like me. Said that he would rather see Allah tomorrow than see a Persian woman with a Saudi. It's just absolutely ridiculous, and racist, and downright unfair! Next thing you know, he'll force me back into a hijab and start arranging my marriages!"

Finally, the dam broke, and the strong, passionate Jasmine fell to pieces. However, she did not do so violently, as one might expect, but softly, like a ruined piece of paper, no matter how ornate, growing limp in a torrential downpour. She slumped into Pocahontas' shoulder and wheezed. "It's like this every time with him. No tattoos, no drinking, no boyfriends, and no options. Why does this keep happening? Why does he keep ripping the rug out from under me?"

Elsa's heart pained her. It was Christmas, and no matter the religious affiliation of her friends, Jasmine loved Christmas most of all. There was something about the late nights and brisk cold that brought out a light in her eyes that nothing else could. Well, nothing until Aladdin had come along.

Finally, Elsa could take no more. With a soft voice and a strong hand, she drew Jasmine into her, hugging the girl that sat limply on her bed. "Do not let him beat you," her voice reverberated in Jasmine's chest. "Do not let your father tell you who you are. Do you love Aladdin? Do you wish to be with him?"

A sniffle. "Yes."

"So be with him. Your dad loves you, Jas. But you have to decide your path for yourself. Your father's money means nothing, and his opinion of Al means just as much. You are a beautiful and graceful young woman, and must claim the world in your hand. Do not be afraid to fall in love with a diamond in the rough, right? Isn't that what you always say?"

Jasmine had a real knack for finding "projects," rehabilitating people and animals from complete and utter ruin. Or at least that's the excuse she had made to Pocahontas when she brought home a ferociously grumpy cat named Rajah, despite the fact that their shared apartment was in no way Bengal-proof. Jasmine was always doing things like that, seeing the good in others, falling in love with the unlovable. It was no surprise to her friends when she introduced them to the scruffy, albeit polite, Aladdin Agrabah. He was the type of man with long, jet black hair to the tops of his shoulders, flowing down and shaping his tremendously handsome face, a patch of scruff on his chin, a lean build and a childish gleam in his deep brown eyes. Oh, he was trouble alright. But for a rebel like Jasmine, Elsa had known instantly that there was nothing better for her. It had been a moment of real, tangible, true love. And Elsa, despite her confusion and inequities, had to believe in that.

Jasmine nodded her head, pressing hard into Elsa's shoulder. With a soft sigh, Elsa pressed her forehead comfortingly against her friends hair and rubbed her back, the other two leaning into Jasmine. "Love him, find your happiness, and your father will find his as well. That is all you can do."

"_God willing,_" Jasmine's Persian was familiar and warm, and Elsa knew then that she would be okay.

She wished only, in the depth of her heart, that she could listen to her own advice.

* * *

It was a wonder, in Anna's opinion, that she was even able to maintain friendships with the terrible people skills she had cultivated with Kristoff. They were rough and tough and brutal, hearty laughers with hearts the size of the Norweigan mountains from whence they hailed, and it never ceased to amaze Anna how she managed to make friends.

"Rapunzel, that dress is hideous." Hans' voice was completely disapproving, thus drawing Anna's attention to her beautiful and rambunctious cousin. While Anna usually disagreed with Hans' fashion taste, often arguing that it didn't matter how gay you were, growing up with twelve brothers removed ones ability to dress, she blanched at the disgusting shade of pink that now clothed Rapunzel. It was, in every sense of the word, a disgusting mess. With pink cap sleeves that puffed at her shoulders and a terribly awkward length mid-calf, Rapunzel looked like some oversized princess doll. Anna's stomach churned.

Rapunzel made a displeased snort of some sort, before turning to Anna for support.

"Actually, Punz, I'm with Hans." Instantly, Anna held up her hands in defense, shrinking from the cell phone that had just been chucked at her head. "Easy there, tiger. Listen, that dress looks like you had a serious case of the shits, so you drowned yourself in Pepto. And then shrunk your dress. Or grew two times your size. Whatever, the point is, it's terrible. Red is more your color."

Hans smirked, tilting his head in gratitude in Anna's direction. "Besides," Hans added slyly, "My brother typically prefers his women to not look like dolls when he makes love to them. He's far too familiar with fuckable dolls to need a girlfriend that looks like one." Anna nearly choked on saliva and sputtered in laughter.

Rapunzel instantly turned a terrifying red color that clashed even further with the putrid dress, before attacking Hans. This, of course, resulted only in laughter.

"God Hans," Rapunzel nearly shrieked, "If I'm going to be dating Eugene, we cannot speak about my sex life! You promised!"

With that signature Fitzherbert grin the girls had both loved and despised, Hans winked at Rapunzel, held her tightly by the elbows and stopped her from pummeling him any further. "Lighten up, Punzel. I'd say loosen up, but I think Gene-ikins may be a bit pissed at me if I did that." Again, Rapunzel began to hit and smack at Hans.

Anna could not help but grin. Of the many friends she had made while in Denver, Hans was by far the most devious and most fun to be around. Anyone who could fluster Rapunzel was well worth her time. Perhaps she was gullible that way, or perhaps that was all part of the Fitzherbert charm.

"Lay off my cousin, Hans," Anna pulled the two apart, shaking her head and laughing heartily. "This shopping trip wasn't even about you two or who you're sleeping with."

Rapunzel, in an arch of perpetual maturity, stuck her tongue out in Hans' direction. "He started it!"

Hans rolled his eyes, barking back, "And then you hit me! That warrants retaliation!"

Anna groaned, knocking both of her best friends on the back of the head. "Shut up, assholes. You're acting like kids. Are we done with recess now?"

Begrudgingly, the two nodded, and as was customary within the sanctity of the trio, kissed cheeks in a sign of solidarity. Anna grinned, pleased. "Excellent. Now. Who wants to help me find a Christmas present for Elsa?"

This finally caught Rapunzel's attention, curiosity peaking on her manicured brow. "Elsa? You mean mystery girl, Elsa? Mystery girl who saved your life in a tragic snowboarding accident Elsa?"

"The Elsa that you've only known for like, a week, Elsa?" Hans' cynicism bit sardonically at Anna's heart.

"One," Anna began to lead her friends out of the department store, "Nobody saved my life. I dislocated my goddamn knee, not my spinal chord. I wasn't going to die. You are all completely over-exaggerating this knee thing. And two, yes, that Elsa, and quit looking at me like that, Hans. We're friends."

Again, Hans rolled his eyes, jamming his hands into the pockets of his jacket and brushing off the stairs of a group of young men who watched the trio strut through the mall. "Face it Anna, you have it bad for this girl. Friends don't buy friends Christmas presents."

Indignant, Anna swatted at Hans. "Listen here shit-dick, you better have gotten me something for Christmas."

Hans smirked, looping his arms with the girls. "Well of course I did, but that is because we are not friends. I actually hate you both. And quit cussing, Anna. You only cuss when you're nervous."

Before Anna could respond, Rapunzel interjected. "Leave it, Anna. Hans, show a little support. I think it's nice that Anna is meeting new people. God knows she can't hang out with Kristoff and the two of us forever. She needs new friends."

Anna bumped her shoulder into the two of them as the giggled conspiringly. "I have plenty of friends, douchebag. I just choose you losers. Now. What do you get perfection for Christmas?"

While this lead to a whole other slew of cruel and unusual comments form her best friends, two hours later the team had made little progress. Sore, grumpy and tired, they stopped for a cookie and leaned against the counter. Rapunzel had attempted to remain comforting, tried to encourage Anna's relationship with Elsa as much as she could. To his credit, Hans had also picked some rather nice presents, all of which were actually lovely ideas. However, none of them had felt right in Anna's hands. None of them seemed worthy of the intricacies of Elsa.

Put out, Hans groaned. "For the love of God, Anna. If the girl is so perfect, why not try getting her imperfection for Christmas?"

Anna was about to rebuke him, to chastise him for being so grumpy and petty, but then she meditated on the words. She thought, for an infinitely long amount of time, and then began to grin. While this confused Hans to no ends, she immediately stood, grinning, and kissed his forehead. "Hans, you're a genius. I've got to go. Text you guys later!" Anna was sprinting off toward her car in an instant, calling behind her, "Remember, the New Years Eve party is white tie! And don't forget to get Kuzco something, Hans!"

She could almost hear him swearing in the background, and scrambling to find his boyfriend a Christmas present.

* * *

Christmas was Elsa's favorite time of the year. Every Christmas Eve, Denise would make a meal fit for Kings and Queens, filled with stuffed duck and turkey and mashed potatoes and greens and every number of things. She somehow found a way to incorporate Frédéric's Christmas culture as well, which only proved to make the typically stern man unimaginably jolly. Her little brothers always donned the same unfortunate Christmas sweaters, Olaf in yellow and Marcus in blue.

"I hate this sweater," Olaf pouted on the couch as he leaned into Elsa, watching _A Christmas Story_ by firelight. "Yellow and snow do not go together."

Elsa snorted, ruffling her brother's hair and placing her arms around the both of them. If she could keep them safe, if she could just keep them here with her, then the whole world would keep spinning. She could hear her father's humming from the kitchens, where he and Denise were preparing dinner. It was one of the few nights the heads of the house were able to cook together without the disturbance of the staff, and Elsa was no fool. She knew better than to disturb a happy couple while cooking. With the smell of her stepmother's cooking, the sound of her father's happiness, and the comfort of her brothers, Elsa could not find a way to be more content. That is, until she thought of Anna.

She was not surprised when she had not heard from Anna all Christmas Eve. It was a holiday, after all, and while she and Anna were quickly coming to know a plethora of information about one another, she knew very little of where Anna would be at this time. Still, there was an empty gap where the familiar text or picture of a puppy should have been that left Elsa yearning for the redhead's company. She wondered, briefly, perhaps even secretly within her subconscious, what it would be like if Anna were here. Olaf and Marcus would love her, of course. Olaf would find her unbelievably playful and silly, while Marcus would appreciate her ability to treat all people with justice and kindness. They would love her. Perhaps she would sit on one side of Elsa, her head on her shoulder, comforted by her friend's presence, her hand on one of the boys' shoulders. They would sit there, the four of them, all in ugly sweaters with a blanket tossed over their legs, sitting peacefully, gleaming with the joy and grandeur of the lit tree. Perhaps her brother Kristoff would be there, or her cousin, Rapunzel, the one Anna spoke so highly of, or any number of their friends or family members. But all that would matter would be Anna's head on her shoulder. All that would matter would be Anna.

Elsa felt her throat constrict as she realized what she must be thinking and sharply shook away the image. _No. Don't you dare, Arendelle._

She was beyond grateful when dinner was called, and the siblings rushed down to see who would get the first slice of duck. Who could think of any woman, no matter how enticing and friendly, with freshly prepared duck in their mouth?

* * *

Anna stretched over the back of her chair, wincing slightly as her overly full stomach bulged and coiled uncomfortably at her movement. Vaguely, she heard Kristoff groan in pain. "Too much cranberry sauce. Must throw up."

Her brother and cousin flanked her, while the adults sat intermittently about the table, boisterous and rowdy as always. Rapunzel's father was a rather rotund man, and he was handsome in a way as well. His jaw was very square, and his eyes very bright with the mirth of a far younger man. Her mother could have been identical to Anna's own mother, had their ages not been spread by four years, but they both maintained that unbound joy in their faces. Andrew Bjorgman, with his copper hair and brandy, grinned amiably, chortling at a terrible joke. All was well.

However, while her stomach may have been full and she may have been happy with her situation, one thought had burrowed it's way into her mind, and refused to leave.

"Dinner was delicious, everyone," Anna piped up, silencing the throng. They all smiled in her direction, cheeks rosy with a touch of alcohol. She herself could feel wine rushing through her veins. _Whoops._

Anna fought her body, her fullness and sudden exhaustion, and managed to stand. "May I be excused? I'd like to take a quick walk in the new snow, if that's alright with everybody."

Andrew raised an eyebrow. "Darling, it's Christmas Eve. Why don't you stay in? Besides, you could get kidnapped, and despite what your brother may make you believe, that would not be a very good present at all."

Anna felt a tug at her heart. She hated the idea of lying to her parents. But after googling Elsa Arendelle in an attempt to discover her address so that she might drop off her present secretly, Anna had also stumbled upon her father. Elsa was the eldest child of Frédéric Arendelle, a fiercely ruthless business man whose sole purpose in life was to erect beautiful buildings from nothing. The name sounded remarkably familiar, and while it took ages for Anna to place it, she realized it as though she were slammed with a ton of bricks: Arendelle Industries could not stand her father.

True, while her father's business was that of medical technology and hospital supply, he also was very much involved in the architecture of the hospitals he helped erect. One of the very first hospitals her father had built outside Denver was being contracted by Arendelle Industries, and her father rejected the work being done by Arendelle. They had long since been in a heated rivalry, that was no secret in the Chamber of Commerce.

This of course meant that Anna now could not speak of her friendship with Elsa Arendelle. While she knew her father would not stop her friendship, she knew for a fact that she would not be allowed to deliver Elsa's present that evening, and that was not an option.

"Just a quick walk, Dad. You won't even notice I'm gone." _I sure hope._

Tamera gave a quiet laugh, touching her husband's arm tenderly. "Oh Andrew, let her go. She might lose that leg soon, and then she'll miss those walks in the snow."

"Dammit guys my leg is fine!" Her family drowned her protest in laughter, and Anna herself could hardly find it in herself not to laugh with them.

When she was finally out in the cold, she pulled her coat tightly around her body and grabbed the gift bag she had hidden in the garage. It was large, but not overtly heavy, and certainly would not be a burden on her relatively short journey.

_This better work, or else I'll kill Hans. Then Kuz will kill me. And Eugene as well. Which would probably break up Eugene and Rapunzel, and I can't have that. _

Anna tried to reassure herself, but all she felt was nervous and stiff. She could not stop the self doubt that swarmed within her. None the less, Anna was a confident sort, and while she could not stop herself from being nervous, she did force herself to see through Kristoff's eyes.

_Elsa is my friend. We may not have known each other for long, but she's my friend. And she likes me. And no matter what she thinks of this gift, she is still going to like me tomorrow. I just hope she likes me a little more. _

While Anna had given up on any romantic prospect with Elsa, she could not stop the gnawing feeling like maybe, just maybe, Elsa wanted her too.

Finally, Anna reached the towering _Château Arendelle. _Google images had not done it justice. The edifice was truly built by an architect, a beautiful stone structure with wide terraced windows and the landscaping of a genius. Anna gaped for a mere moment before swallowing tightly, bolstering her courage, and strutting to the door.

To her utter surprise, a very short boy answered her knock. He was, in every sense of the word, adorable. Dark black curls flopped over his sunned skin, his bright blue eyes contrasting with his complexion. While Anna did not quite understand why anyone would condemn their child to the fate of the atrocious yellow sweater the boy wore, Anna did not think on it long.

"Hi, I'm Anna."

The boy's perky smile brightened. "Hi Anna, I'm Olaf. I like warm hugs."

Instantly, the boy wrapped his arms around Anna, pressing his face into her stomach. While she was certainly taken a back, she could not help but giggle and hug him back. "Hello Olaf. Is this Elsa Arendelle's house?"

Olaf pulled back, suddenly mischievous and suspicious. "Maybe. What do you want, mysterious ginger girl named Anna?"

Anna grinned. _So it is her house. This must be her family member. Maybe he likes to play games. _

Anna bent down to Olaf's level, her grin spreading to his face as he bounced on the balls of his feet in excitement. "I am just that, a mystery. You see Olaf, I am on a secret mission, and I have a delivery for Elsa Arendelle."

Olaf's eyes sparkled. "For my sister? What is it?"

Olaf reached for the bag but Anna chided him, smirking. "Now now, you don't look like Elsa to me. But you do look like you could be pretty helpful in my mission. You in?"

He was nothing but smiles. "Definitely! I love mysteries!"

"Great!" Anna peaked into the bag, ensuring it's contents were safe. "This delivery is for your sister, but wait! You cannot look in the bag, and you cannot tell her who brought this. You can only say that someone brought her a present, and have her get it when she is alone. It's very important that you follow these rules, Olaf, or the mission will be lost."

With a sudden air of military seriousness, Olaf saluted, and cried, "I won't let you down, Captian Anna!"

She placed the bag in the boy's hand and grinned, giving him another tight hug, before whispering, "By the way, I like warm hugs too. Merry Christmas, Private Olaf." The perfect grin on Olaf's face was magical.

When the door closed, Anna stood still for a moment. She knew she should return home. She knew Elsa would know the present was from her, at least that's what the note said. She knew all of these things, and yet she needed to see Elsa's face when she opened the present. She needed to see her friend.

* * *

"Someone just brought a present for you, Els!" Olaf's sing song voice chorused as he plopped back down into his chair.

Elsa looked up in curiosity. "Really? And who brought something for me?"

Olaf grinned, winked, and said simply, "It was a secret! I put it in the foyer!"

By this point, her family had retired to eating Christmas cookies in their more intimate living room, the one reserved for family days such as this as opposed to entertaining. While Elsa knew that Marcus would surely take her spot if she stood, she found herself very curious of this present. She and Belle, along with most of their friends, had already exchanged gifts, so who would bring her anything?

Shrugging, Elsa stood, excusing herself, and heading to the foyer.

* * *

Through the window, a very nervous and very creepy Anna noticed blonde hair. This was it. Elsa would see the package.

Anna fought the disgusting realization that she must have seemed ridiculous, staring in and watching the scene through the window, but decided it was worth it when she found Elsa staring with intrigue at her gift.

Elsa observed it for a mere moment, before politely removing the tissue paper. Anna saw an audible gasp sneak through Elsa's lips as she reached for her present, and Anna felt comfort soar in her heart. She had done right. She had done something right.

Anna knew what Elsa was staring at. It was a painting, simple in nature, but handsome if she did say so herself. Anna had been painting since before she could remember, and while there were many things that she was rather mediocre at, art was not one of them. Anna knew Elsa would be studying a face much like her own, only in an eighteenth century body. Anna knew the painting was of Elsa as Jane Bennet, with a placid smile and puppy in her hand. Anna knew because she herself had painted it.

She watched the gasp turn into a grin when Elsa found the note in the bag, pulling it out and reading allowed. Anna knew what the note said, as she had written it about twenty times.

_Elsa Arendelle,_

_From the moment I first read that life ruining novel, you reminded me of Jane._

_Also, I love puppies, and so do you. _

_I hope you like this. _

_If not, there's also a sweater because I like sweaters and, well, so do you. _

_-Anna_

Tears spilled down Elsa's face, and Anna felt her heart swell. She could restrain herself no longer. Without hesitation, Anna wrapped her knuckles on the window.

When Elsa turned to her, her eyes were so filled with happiness, so beautiful in the simple emotion found in them, that Anna fell in love all over again. She fell in love with the eyes that warmed her to the core, with the hair that fell in soft, smooth waves, with the palpable emotion, so rarely seen, but suddenly revealed to her. She once was in love with Elsa's surface; now she was also in love with Elsa's middle, rare bits as well. Anna tried to breathe, but could only grin.

Elsa grinned back, and for a moment, they did nothing but hold watery eye contact. Then, Anna breathed out against the window, and wrote:

_Have a very merry Christmas, Els._

Elsa laughed, clutching the letter to her chest, and mouthed:

_I just did._

**Author's Note Round Two: Damn, that was a doozy. Once again, thanks for your support. I hope no one minds the development of the secondary characters because I love secondary characters. If you have any thoughts or opinions about them, please let me know! Also, big thanks to Xav92 for offering to assist me with my shitty French. They're a literal saint. Much love to you all!**

**-Abby**


	7. New Year, New Us

"You didn't have to get me anything, you know."

"Ugh, Elsa, of course I know." Anna rolled her eyes, deeply considering tossing her coffee at her companion. However, she realized she had spent far too much money on the sweater Elsa was sporting to ruin it with her caramel macchiato. "Quit telling me things I understand perfectly well."

Elsa smiled fondly over the top of her drink. Anna had a way of making her smile that way. Still, despite the pleasure of Anna's company, Elsa's legs trembled with the need to feel her calves straining against her board's braces and her thighs burn with muscle use. Elsa bit her lip, eyeing her precariously placed board. Anna could not help but noticed the yearning in her friend's eyes, and smiled leisurely.

"Go on."

Elsa jumped a little, her eyes swiveling back to where Anna sat, her braced leg propped up and her leather jacket pulled tightly around her body. While Elsa publicly denounced the jacket like the plague, she could not help but smile at the way it enfolded Anna perfectly. Anna's beanie slipped down over her brow, and while Elsa knew she was trying to appear sophisticated, she ended up just looking ridiculous. This fact, stored away in the crypt of Elsa's heart, warmed a stupid grin onto her face, before she realized what Anna had said.

"Go on what?" Elsa tried to force her voice to sound calm, as though she had not been consciously aware of the fact that she was, quite literally, checking Anna out.

"Get back up on that mountain." Anna sipped her coffee, warmth slipping through her veins, though that was likely Elsa's fault. "The snow's melted from your jacket, and I know that must be bothering you. So go. I'll be here."

Elsa beamed in Anna's direction, not daring to question the sudden outburst. It was true; too long form the snow and ice of the mountain haunted Elsa. She grabbed her board, flicked on her goggles, and ruffled Anna's hair as she walked past. Both tried not to blush furiously. Both failed tremendously.

* * *

Watching Elsa tackle the mountain was so unimaginably therapeutic for Anna. While Kristoff was ambitious and downright rude with his snowboarding, Elsa was flawlessly precise and elegant. Her knees were always bent at just the right angle, and her speed was untouchably controlled. She carved the mountain like a marble statue, moving with quick, flowing, gliding slips of her feet. She loved the mountain, made the mountain love her back. Anna did not need to see her eyes to see the happiness, the freedom. Anna fell in love with that part of her too, she supposed. She seemed to be falling in love with every part of her these days.

When Elsa slid to an immaculately elegant stop, unlatched herself from her board, and returned to the table Anna had commandeered over the course of the day, the smile on her face was blatantly evident. She looked beautiful. Snow sparkled in her braid, and she slicked her snow-wetted hair off her forehead. Her eyes gleamed. Her lip twitched and begged to widen her smile. And then she saw Anna, looking at her like that.

She had become accustomed to the many looks Anna could give. That was just part of Anna, the utterly and completely expressive faces she would make when speaking, wildly gesturing, the words rolling off a lithe tongue. Elsa could deal with that. She couldn't deal with this.

Anna's eyes scorched her, and that was not a sensation that Elsa was all-together familiar with. Yet here she was, sweating in her boots. She eyed her, lingering on the curve of a hip or the shadow of a breast, tracing the misplaced silken hairs that slid across the bridge of Elsa's nose. Her eyes smoothed over the warm freckles that stood out on pale, pinked skin. She drowned herself in every curve, every line, every point on the graph that was the analytical and enticing Elsa Arendelle.

Elsa tried to swallow. She couldn't.

She heard the thrang of church bells, the curses of catholic school nuns demanding to be heard. She felt the slap on her wrists for staring at the other girls a touch too long. She heard them swear off homosexuality as an utter abomination. Her ears wrung and her throat closed and she felt, for a brief moment, incapable of life.

Anna stood then, unable to contain herself. Watching the grace that had emanated off Elsa as she had flew down the mountain had clicked something in her brain. She wanted to touch Elsa. She wanted to stare. She wanted permission to love her. It was permission she knew she could never have.

And yet Elsa could not breathe. Anna noticed the way her shoulders froze as she approached, the way her body stuttered. She fell in love with that too. Perhaps there was a part of Elsa that wanted permission to love her right back.

"Wh-What?" Elsa's voice finally left her in a rush of breathe, cracked and hoarse. Anna stopped, not wanting to overstep any boundaries.

When she did not speak again, Anna continued to move forward, until she was standing right in front of a quivering Elsa. Again, she stopped, testing the waters. No disgust or restriction was thrown her way. Anna raised a hand to Elsa's forehead, watching shivers trace down Elsa's body, and suddenly finding a smile. Of course Elsa would shiver. Only she could be capable of such an adorable act during such an intense time. Anna let her fingers brush reverently over Elsa's forehead, as though polishing a curve of gold, and sliding the loop of hair that fell over Elsa's brow between her fingers. Elsa made a small sound, and Anna let her smile flow out, larger and more full, and encapsulate them both.

The smile broke onto Elsa's face. She could not help it. Her anxiety, that which had pooled in the bottom of her stomach melted away. Who cared if they were alone or not? Who cared about anything? Anna was touching her. Anna was _touching _her, and had her skin ever felt so warm in her entire life?

_No._ Elsa's body whispered to her terrified heart. _Don't be afraid. You are brave when you're with her. _

Their foreheads met, gently, bodies leaning into one another. They stood their, at the precipice, not quite loving but also no longer simply friendly. They did not grab desperately for one another, but stood as two independently perfect beings colliding through space and time. Elsa decided it was quite nice.

"Tell me something?" Anna's voice tasted like snow on Elsa's lips. She decided that was especially nice.

Elsa felt her head filling with fuzzy happiness. She did not have the peace of mind to criticize any of her actions. She found herself suddenly incapable of remembering any reason at all as to why she should not feel utterly alive in Anna's embrace. She could not remember that she was nearly three years Anna's senior, not that she was, in fact, NOT attracted to Anna in any way. That all seemed to fade into black as Elsa embraced light.

"Anything you want." The words left her mouth methodically, easily.

Anna opened her eyes, giggling a little when she bumped her nose into Elsa's. The blonde's eyes opened lazily. "How is anyone that good on a snowboard?"

This made Elsa freeze up a bit, but not nearly enough to pull back from Anna. She was not certain that anything could make her do that. "Well, that's a rather long story."

Anna's hand found hers and squeezed. Elsa felt her skin burning. "I've got time."

Elsa swallowed the quickly forming lump at Anna's gesture. Everything was easier with Anna, even this. "When my mother left, I started spending a lot of time on these mountains. They were home. My father, man of Belgium steel that he is, refused to allow anyone to see his pain or frustrations. Maybe he didn't even feel any. And so, in turn, I tried not to feel any either. Conceal it all. But it hurts, Anna." Elsa inhaled, breathing in the smell of caramel and coffee on Anna's breath. "It hurts to love someone and watch them walk away, without a second thought. I watched her stand in the doorway and stare at me, almost placidly, as the butler loaded her bags. She didn't say goodbye. I haven't seen her since. I'm not so sure… I don't know that she was ever very fond of my father, or me. But I loved her. I loved her."

Anna felt panic rile up in her stomach. This is not what she had expected to hear. She had expected banter, had expected giggling. There was none of that in this story. Still, the selfish part of her that so often ran from these situations was beaten down by her conscious mind with a bat. Elsa wasn't like the others. She wasn't like any lover Anna had ever wanted before. She was more than that to Anna. Instead, she squeezed her fingers, as though automatically.

As though encouraged, Elsa continued. "But after she left without a word, I wanted to hate her. I couldn't you see, but I tried to. My mother had always loved these mountains, and skied them as frequently as she could. I loved them too, by her side. But when she left, I wanted nothing but to carve them up. I wanted to feel the burn of snow and ice and wind. And I wanted to make every skier who looked like my mother furious just by existence. What better way to do that than to take up boarding? My love for the mountain grew with a board under my feet. I was a natural, or so they said. I felt like one. Even after my father and Denise married, and my brothers came along, I always found home in the snow. I always found home here. So I stayed. And I suppose practice makes perfect, doesn't it?"

Anna was quiet for a moment, uncharacteristically so, and Elsa was afraid that she had scared her away. But when she leaned closer and bumped their noses affectionately, a sheepish smile spread over Elsa's face in an attempt to silence her rapidly beating heart.

"Thank you for telling me Elsa."

"What are friends for?" She nearly whispered the words, acutely aware of how badly she wanted SOMETHING to happen between them. Aware of how warm Anna was, how easy it would be to wrap her arms around the smaller girl, aware of how quiet her mind was for the first time in years. She wanted to kiss Anna. She wanted to kiss another woman, and for the first time in her life, that did not scare her to death.

"Tomorrow is New Year's Eve, you know," Elsa's breath ghosted Anna's face, the offhanded comment slipping past her lips and over Anna's skin.

However, despite the casual nature of the comment, Anna nearly burst out of their embrace. Elsa's face fell almost comically at the loss of her warmth, and she almost whined throatily.

"Shit. Shit shit shit _fuck _goddammit." Elsa's crestfallenness reverted to confusion.

"Anna, what could possibly be so bad that you would feel the need to hail the Lord of Curse words with your potty mouth?"

Anna, for a split second, merely glared in Elsa's direction, before hissing, "Every year Kris and I throw a huge New Year's Eve party. We call it the Kristanna Extravaganza, and invite everyone we know. It's a fucking blast, really. But I was supposed to go by the caterers and ensure that our food would be ready and delivered by tomorrow and _fuck _is that really the time Oh God Kris is going to kill me they close in like forty five fucking minutes-"

Anna stopped then, because Elsa had clamped an affectionate hand over her mouth. "Hush. You're waisting time. Go."

With that, Anna quickly sprinted away. Elsa, her hand still held against an imaginary mouth, felt her brow crease in disappointment. "Bye then, I suppose." She called the words to a retreating back, then sighed and ran her fingers through her bangs. She tried not to miss Anna. She tried not to wish she had stayed, if only to say a quick goodbye. She tried not to dwell on how badly she had wanted to kiss the other girl.

"Elsa!"

She looked up and there Anna was, bent over, hands on her knees, her beanie slightly off center and gasping for breath. Elsa could feel all crossness with her friend melting away. "I forgot to ask you if you wanted to come."

Bemusedly, Elsa replied, "Come where, exactly?"

Anna inhaled stiffly, before standing and grinning sheepishly. "To the Extravaganza. I mean, if you don't want to that would be totally cool, but I mean there will be lots of champagne and good food and probably a ton of people from your university thanks to Kris and you know you could always bring someone if you wanted!"

It all came out in a rush, and Elsa wanted to laugh, but then she heard herself giggle and reply, "Of course I will." She hadn't been expecting to say anything so impulsive.

Anna's face nearly split from her grin. "Holy shit you said yes. I mean, of course you said yes, it's a fucking party! Who doesn't love parties? Fuck, okay, I'll text you the deets, okay? Hold up, did I just say deets? Wait what is even happening?"

Elsa giggled, nerves bubbling in her throat, but somehow managing to say, "Go. You'll be late."

Anna was gone again, but this time with a grin and a wave. Elsa fought the urge to feel anxious, and only allowed herself pure and unadulterated joy.

* * *

"Kristoff I fucked up." That morning was a disaster, utterly and truly. Her hair was simply not doing as she pleased it to, curling far too tightly, and she realized that the dress her mother had bought her for the event was not the same color as the necklace she had intended to wear that evening. Kristoff leisurely sat on her bed, a bed he greatly preferred to his own, and smirked at his baby sister. It was an odd thing to see Anna Bjorgman so dressed up, but it was a beautiful sight none the less. Kristoff could not help the pride that warmed inside him at her deep purple dress, politely stunning. She was not a child anymore.

"I feel like so many of our conversations start that way these days, Anna-banana." Purposefully, Kristoff mispronounced 'banana,' allowing his voice to drawl. Anna scowled.

"Now is not the time for snark, asshole."

Kristoff grinned, standing and putting his rather large hands on his sister's shoulders. His hair flopped into his face. "Anna, don't cuss. You only cuss when you're nervous." Irritably, Anna attempted to bat his hands away but did not succeed. Kristoff merely chuckled and continued on. "You look beautiful, little sis."

Anna wanted to correct him, to harp on the fact that she would be wearing the wrong gems in her necklace this evening, that her hair was not perfect, that she had fucked up her eye make up and that she was, quite frankly a mess. But that wouldn't be true. She knew that herself. Her necklace looked lovely, as it had when her father had bought it for her. Her hair certainly was not perfect, but lovely, and messily beautiful, which suited her far better. Her make up was not precise or severe, but warm and friendly, just as she was. She was not a mess, not on the outside, but her insides suggested otherwise.

"I shouldn't have invited her, Kris," her voice was soft, and she allowed him to pull her body into his. He hugged her tightly. "What if she doesn't have fun? What if she doesn't even want to be here? What have I done?"

Kristoff chuckled. "Anna, she accepted your invite. Right? She clearly wants to be here, and I know for a fact she's friends with the Kappa girls I invited. Everything is gonna be peachy, kiddo. Just take a breath. Or a drink."

Anna eyed the whiskey Kristoff had sat on her vanity and considered that option. "Deal," she replied sharply, breaking from his embrace and sloshing back the whiskey. It settled in her throat and warmed her thoroughly. _Fuck. Much better._

Again, Kristoff was laughing, shaking his head. "I didn't mean _my _scotch, douchebag. Anyway, you're gonna have a great night. It's the fucking Extravaganza for Christ's sake! Live a little!"

His words rang in his booming tenor as he clapped her shoulder affectionately and left, winking in her direction. She could not help but smile. _Confidence Anna. Confidence_.

And confident she would be. Instantly she felt better, and turned up her music so that she could continue to get ready in something very far from peace.

* * *

The anxiety that seemed to disappear around Anna did not seem to disappear at the _thought _of Anna. Apparently, tonight, that just made everything harder.

"Jesus Els, you didn't tell me the girl lived at Hogwarts. Holy cow, this place is incredible. It looks like something out of a fairy tale, yeah? Or maybe Game of Thrones, though preferably without the rape and incest. Or maybe incest, I mean, who am I to judge people, right? If Jamie were my brother, I'd probably be interested in incest as well. At least it isn't bestiality or something."

Distantly, Elsa was aware of Belle blabbering in order to attempt to keep Elsa calm, but she was failing valiantly. Finally, Elsa heard Belle sigh and grab her arm, spinning her friend to look away from the beautiful architecture of the Bjorgman estate. "Elsa. Look at me."

It seemed Elsa did not have a choice, as Belle had now maintained a grip on both of her arms. Still, when Elsa tried to habitually look down, Belle claimed her attention. "What are you so scared of?"

There were about a thousand things she was scared of. She was scared of being around so many people. She was scared of letting Belle down tonight. She was scared of seeing Anna, beautiful and wonderful Anna, and not living up to the expectation. She was scared of the expectation. She was scared of herself. She was scared of how much she still wanted to kiss Anna Bjorgman. She was scared that she could not find the words to tell this to Belle. She was scared she may never find the words.

Finally, she spoke, "Will you always love me?"

Belle's eyes, dark and warm, softened, like melting caramel. "I will always love you. We are sisters, in every sense but blood. You know that, silly."

Elsa nodded, a hint of courage sparkling in her veins. "We are. I do. I just needed to hear you say it."

Belle eyed her best friend, before conceding, but not letting go. "You don't have to tell me what dragon is hiding in that castle, E. You'll find your way to telling me eventually; you always do. But whatever it is, it isn't the end of you. You have nothing to fear. You are a heroine in every way. You have nothing to be afraid of."

How Belle always managed to say the right thing, Elsa was never certain, but when she tucked her head against Belle's, she was certain that she could never imagine a life without Belle in it. She hoped beyond all conceivable hopes that Anna and Belle liked one another. If not, she realized, she would be more than lost.

When Belle pulled away, her eyes were glistening and her teeth gleamed. "Come on. Let's go get drunk on rich wine."

When Kristoff opened the door, Elsa could not help the contagious grin that seemed to be genetic for the Bjorgman siblings. He was utterly and devastatingly handsome, with his blonde hair slicked back and silken, dashing in his tuxedo. He grinned widely, an obedient but obviously excited brown lab at his feet. "Elsa, it's an absolute pleasure to see you this evening. And this must be Belle Desrosiers. Adam has told me great things about you." For a moment, he checked his gentlemanly persona at the massive oak doors. "I heard you kicked that prick Gaston's ass last semester. Cheers."

Belle grinned, her eyes shining in the light. "Adam is too kind. My boyfriend has a way of exaggerating my greatness."

Kristoff chuckled, winking. "Only when drunk, which he happens to be. Come on in, it's freezing out!"

While it may have been cold outside, the warmth that encompassed their entry was almost overwhelming. Immediately, Elsa was welcomed by a throng of her fellow classmates. Her girls squealed at her presence, all complimenting her on the ice blue dress and pearls. She smiled demurely, waving at at them all.

"Hellova party, yeah?" Jasmine giggled at Al's arm. For once, he looked clean shaven and put together.

"Good to see ya, Elsa! Looks like we both clean up nice, right?" Aladdin grinned, black eyes shining. Elsa could not help but laugh. Something about his mischievous boyishness was appealing to her.

"If by that you mean that I look quite nice when I shave, thank you Al. So do you!" The whole group burst into laughter at the joke, an uncharacteristic feat for Elsa. Pocahontas introduced them to a handsome young man named John, who she proceeded to explain American culture to. Clearly, the Brits were far superior in his opinion.

"Why on earth is no one drinking?" Kristoff burst into the group, followed by a waiter with a perfectly balanced dish of drinks. The champagne sparkled wonderfully. "Drink up, guys!"

And drink they did. Music thrummed in every part of the house, and Elsa found herself laughing with abandon and meeting new people. She could not help but feel as though Anna were with her, even though she was not. There was certainly something wonderfully warm about being in Anna's domain.

It was not until a half past eleven that she finally saw Anna, laughing with a girl with short brown hair and an auburn haired gentleman who clutched at the hand of a thin, dark headed figure. Bravery coursing through her veins (or was that the alcohol?) Elsa approached the group.

As soon as Anna saw her, her eyes lit up. The others of the group turned, brows peaking.

Elsa nearly stopped in her tracks when she saw Anna. Never had anyone looked so good in purple in their lives. She stood a bit taller in her nude heels, and her jewels sparkled at her neck. Her hair was messy, as though wind blown specifically by God himself. Her eyes sparkled beneath her warm, smoky eye make up. She was grinning. She was staring at her and grinning. Anna was grinning at Elsa, and the whole world felt impossibly irrelevant at that moment.

"Hey." The word left in an alcohol saturated breath, and if she had a mind to pay attention to anyone other than Anna, she would have seen the collective smirk on the group's face. Anna merely beamed.

"Well!" The dark headed girl giggled, clapping her hands with finality. The other girls, clearly entranced by one another, finally turned their heads to face her. "I'm Rapunzel, Anna's cousin. This is Hans, our good friend, and his boyfriend Kuzco."

Elsa turned her head to the couple, a good looking and broad shouldered young man with a sly face and his boyfriend. His hair was black as night, even darker than Jasmine's, and draped over one shoulder in a pony tail. Somehow, he managed to make it look stylish. His smile was far more genuine than Hans'.

"It's so nice to meet you, Elsa. It is Elsa, right?" Elsa could only nod in Kuzco's direction, still more than blown away at Anna's appearance. Hans stepped up, a more sincere smile on his face.

"We've heard a load of good about you. Hope you stand up to the positive words, hmm?" A protective glint sparkled in his eyes for a mere moment, before he and his boyfriend nodded their goodbyes and walked off, speaking quietly amongst themselves. Anna's cousin, Rapunzel, was soon gone as well, commenting something about needing to find 'Eugene.' Whoever that was. _Who the hell cares?_

Anna finally found the words to say. "Goddamn."

Okay, well maybe they weren't the _best _words to say.

Elsa giggled, the tension broken as she watched a blush color Anna's cheeks. "Is that supposed to be a compliment?"

Anna grinned, her coloring deepening further. "Sorry. I uh… Fuck. I meant to say… Well shit, Elsa."

Elsa outright laughed this time, sliding next to her friend. The alcohol was making her feel confident, and Anna's eyes were making her feel courageous. "You only cuss when you're nervous, you know."

Anna grinned then, bumping her shoulder against Elsa's. Finally, she spoke, "You look damn beautiful, Els."

Elsa could not help the flush that crept up the back of her neck, whether from the wine or from Anna. Likely from both. "Thank you, Anna. You look absolutely gorgeous."

Anna could tell that she meant it. They both grinned, their smiles dripping with sincerity.

Another four glasses of champagne later, the tension was all but forgotten. They were giggling, far too close to one another, telling furtive jokes that bordered on innuendo. Neither seemed to care about the way their respective friends and family were now looking at them as they leaned against one another, their hair mussed and their eyes dripping with unshed tears.

Elsa's stomach hurt. When was the last time she had laughed like this?

"I'm so fucking glad I met you." The words left her lips, and she did not wish to retract them. Anna stopped, her smile softening.

"I'm so fucking glad I met you, too." They were so close. Had they always been this close? When had their faces come together this way?

Did it even matter?

"I've got a confession." Anna's voice drawled, dripping with her buzz. Elsa giggled, her nose bumping Anna's.

"Confess away."

Anna's hand found Elsa's. "You're one of my best friends."

Elsa's heart was hammering behind her smile. Could Anna hear it? "You're one of mine."

Anna shook her head, grinning drunkenly. "You don't get it. I don't want to kiss any of them. I want to kiss you."

They were not so drunk that they did not pause in reaction to the sudden statement. While Anna felt embarrassment racing through her, she did not move away. Neither did Elsa.

"I hope that isn't weird for you," Anna's face was flushed, and her breath smelled of whiskey and champagne.

Elsa finally shook her head, her body moving of it's own accord. "No, it isn't weird for me."

Distantly, the crowd was beginning the countdown. The two girls in the corner saw nothing. Heard nothing but the quick breathing of the other.

"It's New Year's Eve," Anna commented mildly. She noticed Elsa's lips were closer. How convenient.

"So it is." This was Elsa's only response before somehow, by some strange shift in fate, her lips were brushing against Anna's. It was hardly even a kiss, really. There was no movement, no tongue, no teeth, none of that. Two pairs of soft lips pressed together gently as the clock ran out. Neither moved closer, and neither moved away.

Finally, Anna pulled back, her face colored but not devastatingly so. She kissed Elsa. _I kissed Elsa. _

When Elsa did not speak, realization dawned on her. She had finally done it, really, truly. She kissed her. Lips had pressed against lips and they had kissed. And while Elsa had not moved away, Anna could not help but feel as though she had taken advantage of the alcohol in Elsa's system. She could not look away from Elsa, but saw nothing decipherable in the eyes that slowly opened and stared into hers. She wanted to run, to hide, to hate herself for ruining everything, for taking a beautiful friendship and sending it to hell in a hand basket, for kissing the one person she wanted to kiss most. She had ruined it. She had ruined it.

"Do it again."

Anna nearly did not hear, Elsa, but more saw her lips moved. Her brow furrowed. "Wait what?"

And then there were arms around her waste and breasts pressed to hers and stomachs brushing and noses bumping and eyes blurring with intensity. Elsa spoke clearly this time.

"Kiss me again."

Anna did not stop herself. She was never very good at restraint.

She let herself tangle her hands in Elsa's hair and pressed her back against the darkened corner until flesh met the wall, and their lips collided. Anna was pretty sure she saw God. Their lips moved poetically, perfectly but imperfectly, paradoxically. Everything was new and fantastic. Nothing mattered but the cheering of a New Year and the warmth of the room and the feeling of lips against one another. This was everything. They were everything Fingers tugged at hair and dress and bodies rolled with suppressed hunger and Elsa made a wonderful small noise in the back of her throat.

Anna decided that was one more thing to fall in love with.

**Author's Note: Don't think we're anywhere near done. I'm sorry I'm a little late. I hope this makes up for it. Much love.**

**-Abby**


	8. The Beginning of the End

Elsa's hands clenched at one another for dear life. Belle had been silent their whole way back to Elsa's estate, where the two girls would be staying for the evening, but Elsa was suddenly feeling too cramped and too stifled to even consider that fact. Her hands ached from the tension, her back ramrod straight and her eyes focused intently on the pitch black darkness ahead of them. There was bleak uncertainty in her eyes.

Anna had kissed her. It had been a presumable accident the first time, an unfortunate misgiving but not an all-together friendship ruiner. There had still been salvageability. Mistaken, drunken kisses happened all the time, right? They were amendable. There was still platonic love to be remedied there.

But Elsa, in her stupidity, in her rush of emotions and adoration of the girl before her, had begged for another kiss. She had reached for Anna in a way she had never reached for anyone else before. Hands had brushed waist, no, grabbed waist, and noses had bumped intimately. Lips had scorched one another, branded them with the depths of all of their hopes and dreams and suddenly forever had been between her two hands and she could not breathe. She had felt her back touch the wall but had no fathomable way of defining how low her back had been there. Darkness had shrouded them, but heat and fire burned their insides. Everything had been Anna, Anna _Anna. _Nothing had been terrifying, or too confined. She had not felt perfect. She had felt human, and anything even akin to anxiety had fallen away.

Now, the same could not be said.

The air that sat between Belle and Elsa was unbearable. The driver, accustomed to the quick, educated banter in the back of the town car was floored when the two girls had stepped into the car, faces flushed with alcohol but not a sound to be spoken for. It was very unusual indeed.

Of course, Rodger had no idea how very unusual tonight had been. Suddenly, Elsa was acutely aware of her foolishness. She had not been aware of it in the moment, of course, nor the moment after that. She had simply stared at Anna, teal eyes wide and mouth open, damp and swollen from kissing. Her hands had gone slack around Elsa's neck, and shock seeped into her soul. Elsa had known that much, just by looking at her companion. There was something alluring to shocking Anna; Elsa doubted many people could. Still, when their lips had met for a third, a fourth, a fifth time, the whole world had compounded down into them, right there, in that moment, in that darkness. Elsa had lived, if only for a moment.

When Belle had found them in one another's arms, however, death had greeted her once more. There had been a fair bit of shocked staring, scrutiny of the redheaded girl that stared, blank faced, back at her. Then, with a single frown forming over Belle's face, the final nail was hammered into Elsa's coffin. "It's getting late Elsa. We should go."

In fear, Elsa thought perhaps she should not move. Perhaps she should just stay there, replay the moment again and again and again until her mind fell into a vegetative state. But Anna, sweet, gentle, wonderful oblivious Anna had pushed her forward. Whatever she expected from Elsa, little though it may have been, it would not be what she received. She had kissed her cheek in farewell, grinning, her eyes filled with a sudden and unspeakable joy. She had whispered something akin to goodbye. Elsa had shook.

And now they say, in silence, in fear and anguish and heartbroken destruction, in the back of her town car. Belle said nothing. Elsa could not say anything if she wanted to.

"How long?"

It was such an easy question, intrinsically simple in its nature. She could have answered it. She did not need to ask by what standard they were measuring, or what event they were measuring. No, Elsa knew all of that.

It was the stone in Belle's voice that was so unfamiliar. Belle was a number of things. She was naturally inquisitive and questioning, and had spent her whole life standing up when Elsa would not. She was familiar with the high expectations place on Elsa's shoulders, and while Elsa was expected to be in control at all times, Belle had never minded being her right hand woman.

Now, it was the cold that bit into Elsa's flesh that forced tears from her eyes. This was all going horribly wrong.

"Elsa. I asked, how long?" The voice, icy, asked again. This was not Belle, not the one Elsa knew. Belle did not know how to be ice; that was Elsa's job.

Elsa choked on her answer. "Tonight. Tonight." She could say nothing more.

Belle seemed to understand, pressing a button to ensure that the window between the girl's compartment and Rodger was sealed. When the window had risen, despite a brief questioning glance from the driver, Belle once again replaced her hands in her lap.

_This is it. This is the beginning of the end. _

Elsa was shaking nearly uncontrollably now. Desperately, she grabbed at either side of her waist, as though trying to hold herself together. Her breathing was choppy. Her eyes were clouded by tears that threatened to coat her cheeks, her heart thundering in her ears. She could no longer hear anything but her own heavy breathing, the rushing of blood through her body, and the cracks in her heart. Everything hurt. Everything felt ruined. She wanted out of the car; it felt far too hot and sweaty this close to Belle and her presumable disapproval.

A hand reached for her arm.

As though someone had shot off a pistol, Elsa jumped, turning and pressing herself as far against the other side of the car as she could, as though attempting to get away from Belle. She had expected to see anger, hatred, disgust, any number of negative emotions. She had expected Belle's hand on her arm to be a vice grip, steel against flesh.

Instead, she only saw concern in her eyes and parted lips.

"Oh Elsa…"

Belle's voice cleared the fog, if only slightly, and Elsa's heart stopped pounding. Carefully, familiar with Elsa's sudden panic attacks, Belle moved a little closer. Elsa, if possible, curled in even further on herself. Belle reached out a hand, flat and slow, so that Elsa could see that she meant only to lay it on her friend's shoulder.

"Come here, sweetheart." Belle's voice had softened, and her hand tugged Elsa towards her. The dams broke. Elsa could not stop herself.

In the rush of familiarity, Elsa let herself fall forward into Belle's arms, the anxiety releasing its grip and the fear and sadness taking its place. Her shoulders quaked with loss, as though someone had already taken everything from her.

Belle, her momentary agitation rushing away, found her previous emotions being replaced by sheer concern for her best friend. She wrapped her arms around Elsa's shoulders, cradling the girl's head into her shoulder. She tried, with everything that she was worth, not to allow herself to indulge in tears of her own. She found, shockingly enough, that Elsa was repeating something that sounded a lot like an apology. It was only then that she stopped her comforting.

Belle laid a hand on Elsa's head, pulling away and forcing Elsa to look at her. "Why do you think I'm angry?"

Elsa's tears fell harder, if possible. In stuttered, broken speech, she replied, "Anna. You-you'll h-h-hate me because of wh-what I f-f-feel!"

Belle sighed, sadness sneaking into her gaze. Finally, she placed her hands on either side of Elsa's face, and sat so that she was staring directly at her. "Elsa, stop. I have not seen you more dazed and completely enraptured as you were with that girl, and I have known you for a very long time. We do not choose who we love Elsa. Do you hear me?"

Elsa heard her, but she was not listening. She had lost her ability to listen, somewhere down the line. Again, Belle tried.

"Elsa. Do you have feelings for her?"

Elsa choked on a sob, "Yes!"

Belle could not help but smile. Ever honest, every oblivious. That was her best friend, alright.

"You haven't done anything wrong, Els. We don't choose who we love. There's nothing wrong with how you feel about her. I'm not mad at you. Hey, look at me." She pushed their foreheads together, kindness seeping into her voice. "I'm not mad at you."

Elsa's shaking finally halted, and her tears silenced. Still, they ran freshly down her cheeks. "Y-you're not?"

Belle almost giggled, keeping their foreheads together. "Never. Best friends, remember? I meant that nonsense. Didn't you?"

Elsa nodded, her nose bumping Belle's. Belle pulled back then, pulling Elsa back into a hug. When they had held each other for long enough and Belle was positive that the shaking was finished, she finally took a deep breath and explained herself.

"Elsa, I could never be mad at you because of who loves you, or who loves you. Hell, you kiss whoever you want in corners. I could never ever be mad at you for that, okay? I was frustrated Elsa, and hurt. I was hurt that… Well, that you didn't tell me. That you didn't just let me know."

Elsa froze, moving so that she could stare back at Belle. "Wait. Let you kn-know what?"

Belle released a puff of air. "Tell me that… Well, tell me that you had feelings for this girl. That you had feelings for girls at all. Did you really think I would be that angry? Were you so afraid of me that you could not even find it in yourself to just be honest with me?"

Elsa had never even considered that her friend would feel betrayed. She could only blink and stare blankly. Finally, when her thoughts had come to terms with the idea, she swallowed hard, replying simply, "I mean… Well, I… I guess I didn't quite know myself."

This was only partially a lie. While it had occurred to Elsa more than once that truly straight girls did not have to remind themselves to be straight, she had never allowed herself to even consider the alternative. When Anna's lips had touched hers, however, all of that had quite literally gone to shit.

Belle blinked, shocked. "Really? You… You didn't know?"

Elsa coughed, something akin to a laugh sneaking out of her throat. "Not particularly. I mean, I just thought I was… Uh… I don't know. Less than sexual?"

Belle snorted. "Asexual is the word you're looking for, dumbass."

Elsa gave a watery grin. "You only call me dumbass when you're not mad at me. So… You aren't, right?"

Her best friend's face morphed into a soft smile, pulling Elsa back into an embrace. "No. No, I'm not mad. I'm overjoyed. I'm so proud of you."

Elsa felt an unnamed warmth creep into her heart. Belle loved her, accepted her. There was something completely perfect about that moment. That is, until Elsa remembered that she would now have to face her father, changed.

"My father…" Elsa felt Belle's shoulders stiffen.

"Your father." The reply was soft, but stoney once more, though this time it was not directed at Elsa. It was true that Belle had never been a particular fan of Frédéric, with his stern voice and conservative opinions. She had spent most of her life standing beside Elsa, staying up nights with her as she completed every task her father asked of her. She had watched Elsa conform herself to the mold her father expected, projecting her every fear and need to please her father onto everyone else in her life. The thought caused anger, even still.

Elsa buried her face against Belle's shoulder and groaned. "He'll never approve…"

Belle took a deep breath, brushing a hand through Elsa's hair, wishing only to bring a girl she considered her sister peace. "No. I doubt that he will. But E, you can't let him run your life forever."

Elsa swallowed hard. "I have to. He's my father."

That was Elsa's excuse for everything. Belle tasted bile, her stomach clenching with unspoken hatred. "Elsa, I won't tell you what to do. But your father will have to come to terms with this eventually, whether with Anna or some other girl. This is a part of you. You can't hide it forever."

_Watch me._

Silence fell between them then, Elsa closing her eyes and trying to focus on something other than the hopeful grin on Anna's face. She knew what she was going to do, what she felt was necessary. She hated herself for it.

_I'm so sorry Anna._

* * *

Anna was floating. She felt like dancing around her room, giggling like a madwoman.

She had kissed her. _Anna Bjorgman_, of all people, had kissed _Elsa Arendelle. _The mere thought was remarkable, in and of itself. Anna tossed herself back onto her bed, giggling again.

Rapunzel sat with her head in Eugene's lap, smirking. She glanced over at Hans and Kuzco, watching their matching faces as Anna continued to bounce around the room. No one said anything, merely allowing Anna to do what she did best: ramble.

"Oh my god, for a girl who apparently is not very familiar with kissing girls damn can she do it well and holy fuck oh my God she is so good looking like how did I get so lucky am I hotter than I thought oh my fucking God someone please tell me that I'm that hot and please God let me kiss her again but really like kissing her was all like whoa and I was all like damn and she was all like again and I was still all like hot damn and whoa…"

Only then did Anna stop, her shoulders slumping, a glazed grin bubbling onto her face. She closed her eyes, sleep and alcohol drifting over her in a haze. This had to have been the best night of her life.

Kristoff stepped into the room, handing out hangover cures of his own concoction, and sliding down the wall next to Eugene and Rapunzel. He sipped his drink, trying not to grimace. "She still going on about Elsa?"

Eugene smiled kindly, scratching his goatee. "What do you think, man? Your sister's got it bad."

Rapunzel and Kristoff shared a look. Neither of them had ever seen Anna get like this over anyone, boy, girl or otherwise. This reaction to kissing was completely new to them, completely out of character. And yet here Anna was, bouncing up and down like a kid on Christmas morning, or more accurately, herself on Christmas morning. Anna did not get worked up like this. She had a tendency to jump to conclusions, sure, to prance about with pride and snark, but never was she a bumbling idiot about love. It was short-lived, fiery and hot for a moment and cold and broken the next, and Anna moved forward. That was the way Anna worked.

Well, up until that point, that is.

"Anna-banana, I'm super pleased that this thing with Arendelle worked out well for you, but you've gotta get some sleep." Kristoff had closed his eyes and was slumping against Eugene's shoulder, Sven coming up to lay in his lap. Her other companions all seemed to be feeling the same, their eyes slipping closed.

Anna said no more, but she could not find it in herself to sleep. She wanted nothing more than to relive kissing Elsa for the rest of her life. She remembered, with shocking vividness, the look on Elsa's face when she had first kissed her. She remembered the apology that was already slipping off her tongue when Elsa had asked her to come back, to return to her mouth, to _love_ her. This was all too much. Her heart swelled at the very thought of kissing Elsa, with the familiarity of her mouth by the fifth kiss. Their kisses had alternated, sometimes soft and sweet, other times hard and passionate and hungry. She couldn't say that she had a favorite, though she distinctly remembered one kiss resulting in a sound from Elsa's throat that mad Anna try to figure out where the nearest bedroom was.

It was true; kissing Elsa had been a godsend of a moment. She imagined that's what the religious referred to as "an epiphany." A moment of earth-shattering wonder.

Anna knew she was bad at a number of things. She had never particularly excelled at math, and she was fairly poor at anything athletic that wasn't soccer. She had atrocious hand writing, she was a terrible owner when it came to small pets, and she dressed like a wealthy hobo. Nonetheless, the one major character flaw Anna knew she maintained was her ability to fall in love, and then leave.

But there was something about Elsa, something about trembling lips and wide, shocked blue eyes and soft noises in the back of throats and everything about their collision that was just, well, different. Elsa was nothing like the other men and women she had flayed. She wasn't just something to be toyed with, but to be understood, to be loved. She wanted to _know _Elsa, body and soul and mind and all of the grey area between. She wanted to be needed by Elsa. She wanted Elsa to point out her flaws so she could fix them.

For a moment, Anna let herself return to that moment in the hospital, when she had been so certain that she loved Elsa then. It occurred to her that perhaps Elsa was like a videogame. You had to beat each level, love each level with the fullest extent of your heart to reach the next. It was a never ending series, with boss-fights and dungeons and terror and triumph. How many levels Elsa contained, Anna could not be certain. None the less, this had to have been better than any videogame, maybe ever.

Her smile was placid, warm and comfortable and dazed. She just felt… warm. Warmth, everywhere, consuming her. It was that same feeling that had warmed her that day in the hospital, their first real meeting as friends, the day she had watched Elsa snowboard… It had all been culminating in this moment.

Everything had led her to Elsa.

Despite this warmth, something dark and unfamiliar crept into her heart. She felt a tinge of insecurity, a fear that she could not place. As utterly pleased, as utterly happy as she felt in that moment, she could not deny that when Elsa had left, she had looked nothing less than terrified.

Anna tried not to think on it long. Instead, she pulled out her phone, realizing that it was promptly 4:27 in the morning. _An excellent time for a morning after text, me thinks! _

Anna chuckled at herself, if only to settle the sudden clenching in her stomach. She inhaled deeply, trying to find the best way to convey to Elsa that she was fairly certain that the world revolved around platinum hair and icy eyes. Or, at least, that she had had an excellent time kissing her.

With the text securely sent, Anna smiled in her own satisfaction, and curled up on herself. Her eyes finally fell heavy, and, still drunk and in her party dress, Anna fell asleep with thoughts of soft smiles and cool lips on her mind.

Elsa did not reply.

**Author's Note: I am so so **_**so **_**sorry that it has taken me so long to update. I am trying to the best of my abilities not to completely slack off at the end of my senior year, and calculus is kicking my ass. Regardless, I hope you'll forgive me. **

**For those of you thinking you were just hopping on a cute little fluff train, I apologize, but you'll wanna get off at the next station. There will be a lot of angst I MEAN A LOT OF ANGST from here on out, with intermittent fluff and then definitely some really unfortunate events that hopefully will make you want to cry. As my all time favorite poet once wrote, "The course of true love never did run smooth," and I can assure you it will not run smooth for these two. **

**Thank you for your love and support, and for those who have corrected me and offered me criticism, thank you so much for recognizing my humanity and assisting me in amending my own idiocy. Your reviews have truly meant the world to me, and the support this fic is receiving is just tremendous. Keep it up guys, we've got a long way to go! **

**As always, much love. **

**-Abby**


	9. Surprise, Surprise

It is a true and undoubted fact that the only way to ease brokenness is alcohol, chocolate, and a never ending influx of work. It is this universal truth that guided Elsa into the last two weeks of her winter vacation, if one could really deem it as such.

Never had the Jameson whiskey distillery been so fortunate in their sales as they were in those next two weeks, for Elsa often found her heart clouded with questioning, hurt texts from a certain redhead whose name had been purged from her mind. This was a trick learned from her father. When in doubt, keep the whiskey out. Elsa oft was prone to doubt, and thusly, there was always a glass container of Ireland's best sitting in her office.

Of course, if Jameson was doing well, then the company that produced the absolutely decadent Swiss chocolates her father so loved must have been booming. Elsa allowed herself to consume sweet after distracting sweet whenever the tension in her shoulders seemed to overcome her. It was fortunate that their housemaid, Gerda, had no questions to ask. After working with such an old and wealthy family for so long, she had learned that it was not her place to ask when the young heiress allowed herself such indulgences.

And then there was the work. While Elsa had long since finished any academic work, she devoted herself instead to anything that involved Arendelle Industries. The company, so it was rumored, was meant to one day be hers. That was of course her excuse when her father asked, quite curiously, why she had such an all encompassing interest in the business affairs of his corporation.

"What is yours is mine, father." This alone had been her response. To a man who hoped only for his daughter to be as industrious and dedicated as he, this was enough.

Therefore, Elsa allowed the piles of paperwork on her desk to build up. She began to make phone calls nearly constantly, negotiating and familiarizing herself with clients and partners. She contracted and bartered and argued fiercely, with a precise cold about her that was spookily similar to that of her father. She even began work on the designs for an upcoming (and rather wealthy) hotel entrepreneur who had specifically sought her out, not her father's best architects. Pride could not have described the expression on Frédéric's face.

Only once, in the heat of the moment, did she allow herself to think of Anna.

Only once, at a dinner party, as she dressed in a blue so deep it could have been black and was led by her elbow in all the right directions did she think, for a moment, that it would have been nice to have Anna on her arm.

It was a brief moment, and her heart and conscience paid dearly for it.

From that point onward, she restricted herself ruthlessly, without ever allowing herself to stop. She did not once allow herself to breathe Anna's name, to think of red hair in her hands, to shiver at the memory of sensation. She did not allow herself such foolishness. She remained silent, stern, and icy.

It was only when she was alone with Belle, clever as she was, that she did not hide her feelings. Belle, to her credit, never allowed herself to look on with disapproval.

"You're getting thin, E." Belle murmured the words quietly as she watched Elsa push her salad around and take a sip of champagne. "And since when do you start drinking before five?"

Elsa paused. "Champagne is hardly drinking, Belle. It's more of a fermented Capris Sun."

Belle rolled her eyes, and sipped at her own drink. "Okay, eighth grade. Thanks for ruining my childhood lunches. Seriously Elsa, you need to eat."

A sigh caught in her throat. Lunch with Belle meant honesty, a trait that she had never been terribly fond of in her own life. "You know why I can't."

Belle kept her eyes on her best friend. She was getting thinner, that much was true. Elsa was one of those unfortunate people who, when utterly devastated, she could not find it in herself to consume food. This, of course, greatly bothered Belle, but she wasn't about to deny the fact that what Elsa was feeling was not worthy of such devastation. Instead, she smiled, and attempted a joke.

"Yeah well, fermented Capris Sun as a liquid lunch is hardly enough sustenance. I mean, it's a twenty dollar salad Elsa, Jesus. At least try to be appreciative."

Elsa smiled, and Belle felt accomplished for the first time in weeks. "Fine, bitch, I'll finish it off." With that, Elsa begrudgingly stuffed a bit of salad into her mouth.

Such was their friendship. Belle had even gone so far as to tell her beloved boyfriend, Adam von Trite, that their date nights would have to wait until Elsa was back to herself again. Thus, like any good best friend would, she punctuated every "girl's day out" with the vast expenditures that Frédéric Arendelle and her own father had become so accustomed to over the years.

"Come on, E," Belle stood as she watched Elsa finish off her salad, "Prada waits for no woman."

Elsa tried to smile, tried to remind herself that she had obligations to attend a party that weekend and of course, needed a dress. But all she could think of was a flash of red hair and hopeful teal eyes. What would Anna think of her, drinking at one in the afternoon? More importantly, what would she think of her in a new dress?

Elsa tried not to cry. She tried valiantly. But valiance never did lead to success.

* * *

Anna was angry.

Well, perhaps angry was not the right word. Perhaps it was fear. Or frustration. Or stress. Or sadness. Or complete and utter devastation. Or heartbreak.

No, she wouldn't let herself believe it was heartbreak.

Except it was and that was the worst part of all, the part where she had to wake up three days in a row and never hear from Elsa. She had never been the one left on in the rain, but rather the one walking away with an umbrella. She had always been the one to avoid texts, to get squeamish at pet names or "I love you's" or any nonsense of the short. She was the one who, at the end of the break up, smiled softly, kissed a forehead with all the sincerity in the world, and popped a beer while playing videogames with Kristoff.

That was who she was. That was who she had always been.

So imagine her surprise, and the surprise of anyone around her, when suddenly Anna could not find it in her to pop a single bottle.

Her second semester of high school began, and Anna hardly felt like she ought to be there. All she thought of was the occasional news article she now found herself seeking out where Elsa was smiling demurely with a little brother's hand clutched in hers as they followed their father. Anna swallowed hard when she saw those pictures, but did not lie to herself. Elsa was beautiful, and unfazed. Anna was a wreck.

It was over one of these particular photos that Anna was pouring when a sudden vibration from her pocket captivated her attention. As she had ever since that first reply-less text, Anna fumbled in her attempts to grab at her phone, only to find Hans' name on the display.

Anna turned and scowled in his direction. As though he were above her agitation, Hans raised a manicured and uninterested brow in her direction, before returning to attention. French was his favorite subject, though this was mostly due to the incredible biceps of Monsieur Clark.

Instead, Anna allowed herself to peak at the message. _Shouldn't you be paying attention to French and not stalking Elsa Arendelle? _

Anna's scowl deepened. She was not stalking. She simply stumbled upon this particular article in the same newspaper she had found herself checking nearly obsessively since New Year's day. No big deal.

_Hey Hans, aren't you supposed to be eye-fucking our French teacher instead of being a dick?_

She could hear her best friend scoff behind her, and nearly smirked in response.

_Easy there, Princess. I'm trying to be a good best friend. _

_Well you're a shit best friend so stop. _

_I love you. Please be okay. _

Anna stopped. She was about to type another excruciatingly snarky response but the honesty in Hans' text hit her square in the chest. It was rare that he would ever show her any affection in that stereotypical way, but when he did, she knew for a fact that he meant it.

When had her shoulders started quaking?

_I love you too. I'm trying to be._

Neither texted again, and Anna found herself incapable of understanding any further conjugations. She placed her phone down onto her table so she wouldn't have to watch her own hands shake. She had never been this girl. Nervously, so that she would not have to accept that she was very much this girl, she ran her hands over her uniform. Her navy pleater skirt matched her blazer with the school's insignia on the lapel. Anna adjusted the pleats, fidgeted with her tie, lifted her blazer off her shoulders. It was only when her hands brushed an ice blue shirt that they stopped and she remembered the only woman she knew who could wear ice blue like it was the new black.

She gazed back down at the picture of Elsa, spiting her, ignoring her. She tried not to hate herself. She tried not to hate what she was allowing Elsa to do to her.

But as we've already established, valiance never guarantees success.

* * *

Elsa hated to admit it, but she really did love parties. She loved to see the beautiful people, in their beautiful clothes with their beautiful smiles. She loved to see the new types of cocktails the hired bars always tried to come up with. She loved the sound of laughter and the dimmed lights and the pumping of music through her eyes. She most chiefly loved the snack area, and the way her friends would always pull her out to dance.

This party, however, was an exception.

It was far too much like that first party, the party where she had giggled in Anna's ear and felt warm breath splayed across her collarbone and had gazed with alcohol dimmed eyes at the most beautiful woman alive.

Elsa grimaced, nearly inhaling something with Hypnotiq in it. It was fluorescent. How original.

Her friends, wonderful human beings that they were, remained tightly by her side. Not a one of them left her, and as any good friends would, they kept supplying her with alcohol. It was only when Adam appeared, his lime tie exquisite and his suit finely tailored, his eyes beaming at Belle, that she felt guilty.

"Hello, my love," Adam kissed her then, deeply, and Elsa tried not to ache for someone whose name she was still attempting to forget to kiss her that way.

Belle giggled when he pulled away, swatting at him. "Adam! We are in public, I'll have you know!"

Adam grinned, extending his hand out to bring Elsa closer. "Els is hardly public. She's family." He kissed her cheek gently. "How are you feeling, Elsa?"

Elsa paused, considering whether she should be honest, whether she should simply tell the truth. She wanted to tell them all, tell them all how very caught up she was on Kristoff Bjorgman's little sister, how much she wished she was not alone tonight.

Instead, she smiled, that practiced demure smile that the tabloids seemed to capture so well. "Quite well, Adam, thank you. This party is wonderful, though that's mostly due to the surplus of good booze as opposed to the quality of the host."

Adam's smile did not grow wicked as it so often did when he and Elsa bantered. Instead he shook his head, and murmured, "You don't have to do that with us."

Elsa nearly choked. She was so accustomed to people accepting her act; she may never become accustomed with the two of them seeing through it. In an act of social brilliance, however, Elsa smiled gently in return. "I believe my best friend has lounged here all evening with me. That is unacceptable, Adam. I thought you von Trites were better men."

Belle rolled her eyes. "It's been a pleasure to sit with you this evening, E. You know that."

This was not acceptable, in Elsa's eyes. "Go, dance. Grind, or whatever it is people do when they're in love. Just let me know if you're staying here or if I should expect you home."

Belle tried to protest, but Adam saw that the words were sincere. He whispered something soft in Belle's ear, and with one last saddened look, she agreed to be pulled away.

In solitude, Elsa could finally breathe easy once more. When her friends offered to pull her onto the dance floor, she smiled, even laughed, but always declined. She remained in the corner, sipping away. She wanted to be drunk. Very, very drunk.

It did not take long before that end was achieved. Elsa, though, was a dignified drunk when alone. She did not often allow herself to drink to that extent, but years of being in the public eye had trained her that, when such an occurrence did indeed occur, it was important that she remained as composed as ever.

This, of course, did not mean that she was not as prone to foolish mistakes, if not more so, than your average drunk girl. No, one may actually find that Elsa Arendelle was even more so prone to foolishness.

With this bit of information under your belt, it is no surprise what happened next.

Elsa found herself thinking of Anna. She could not help it when she was drunk, and she was far too hazy to think of any reason why restraining herself would be pertinent. She was specifically focused on red hair and teal eyes, with a sprinkling of freckles over a nose.

It is unsurprising, then, that when Jared Brunswick walked towards her, a keen smile on a chiseled jaw, red hair expertly combed and cared for, teal eyes baring nothing but sincerity and phantom freckles over his nose that Elsa, for a moment, stared.

"Hello, Elsa." Ironically, his voice could have been what some described as chocolatey. Elsa quite liked chocolate. She did not at all like his voice.

"Why, hello. Jared, right?" Elsa's composure had been fractured. This boy could have been Anna's twin, and while she had only ever seen Jared Brunswick at one of their parent's parties or a fraternity function, this resemblance had never struck her quite so hard.

Jared beamed. "You remembered, excellent."

_Jesus, how could I forget?_

That was the better question, truly. They had been introduced so many times that Elsa had lost count. It was no secret that the Brunswick Foundation, a charity chaired by Jared's mother and funded by his father's billions made in oil sands, was a fierce supporter of the work done by Arendelle Industries. It was also no secret that her father and Richard Brunswick were golf buddies and close friends. Therefore, as any logical person would assume-and be correct in assuming, mind you-it was also no secret that Richard and Frédéric had urged their progeny to find union in one another, if one were to be so clinical about it.

And Elsa was always clinical when it came to Jared Brunswick.

Still, he was a nice boy, and seemed rather interested in her conversation, and she was more than a little drunk, and it was a party, and goddam did he look like Anna and she just wanted to forget the girl who had set her on fire.

So Elsa allowed herself the privilege of scandal.

"Of course, I would know that face anywhere."

Jared grinned again. He had a rather handsome face, all things considered. He was also a rather handsome dresser, with his navy jacket and starched white shirt, paired with a coral and Robin's egg bow tie that would have made Chuck Bass proud, and his trouser so expertly fitted. Yes, he was, by all conventional standards handsome.

"You speak too kindly. We both know that, between the two of us, it is you who are stunning, Miss Arendelle."

_Oh God, is he flirting with me? Honestly?_

Honestly, he was. Elsa bit back the repulsed bile that burned her throat and smiled, reminding herself that this was a handsome boy, and he was calling her pretty. Straight girls typically giggled.

Elsa, realizing that giggling was not a possibility at this point, instead laid a hand on Jared's upper arm.

"Perhaps it is a tie, then. I can settle for that. If our families are so capable of working in tandem, it makes since that we too can come to an agreement." Elsa's false smile was beginning to hurt her cheeks. Her cheeks never hurt when she smiled at Anna.

Jared smirked. Was he perceiving her voice as flirtatious when really it was all taking all that she had not to be revolted by their exchange?

Elsa did not have to wait long for confirmation of hypothesis. Jared did that quite well on his own.

For the next hour or so, Jared chatted Elsa up as though he were the most interesting person in the world. To his credit, of course, he was not an all around bad partner of conversation. He was attentive, and even weaseled a begrudging laugh out of her. In another world, in another situation, she might have even found him genuinely funny. Instead, all she could think of was how much her father would approve.

Her father had quite literally encouraged Elsa to pursue Jared on a more personal level. He had admitted more than once at the dinner table how "well-suited" the two of them were. To translate her father's polite words, Elsa knew that this meant that they were both "wealthy and handsome and the future-heads of lavish corporations, with more than enough connections to ensure the success of either endeavor." Not to mention, of course, that her father had often discussed such a courtship with Brunswick over a brandy or two, as though they all lived in eighteenth century Belgium. While romance was never her father's strong suit, Elsa understood perfectly well what would have pleased her father more than anything: to see Elsa in a public and well-funded relationship. That was her father's greatest (albeit hypocritical) wish.

Elsa knew, beyond shadow of a doubt, that Frédéric would never accept a relationship with Anna. The mere idea was preposterous to say the least. He was famous for rants on homosexuality, on sin, on years of catholic school. No, her father would not approve of anything to do with Anna at all.

So when Jared Brunswick, a handsome man with connections and money and her father's approval, asked her to dance that night, it was no surprise that she said yes. It was no surprise that she almost laughed at his comically antique bow, at his outstretched hand, and his grinning face. It was no surprise that he politely held her waist and clasped her hand, leading them into a slow dance. It was no surprise that when she happened to look up at him, by chance, he so greatly resembled Anna. It was no surprise that Belle caught her eye, a fierce question burning in them.

What was, indeed, a surprise, was the steadying breath Elsa Arendelle inhaled. What was absolutely a surprise was the way she stepped closer, brushing her body against Jared's. What was surprising to all of the attendees of that party was when Elsa, a girl notorious for her frigid exterior to any and all romantic pursuits, leaned forward and kissed Jared Brunswick.

And Jared, of course, kissed back.

Elsa did not have to see the bewildered disapproval in Belle's eyes to know it existed, nor the confusion being shot at her from Jasmine or Pocahontas, nor the gaping glances from her fellow party goers. Elsa was very well aware of the onlooker's reactions. Nonetheless, this did not stop her. Rather, she felt fueled, and laid a hand on Jared's draw.

Elsa knew how to kiss. Anna had taught her.

His lips were not rough, not sandpapery as she may have believed them to be. However, they were not nearly as soft as Anna's, and did not taste of lip gloss or champagne. He tasted of whiskey, of sedation, of complacency. His polite hands remained at her waist. Anna's would have traveled. Elsa would have let them. His jaw clenched, as though he was concentrating so thoroughly on kissing her well that it may just have blocked all other thought from his mind, and Elsa was astounded by the number of things going through her own mind. She was thinking of her father, and her friends, and her family, and her company, and her name. She was, most chiefly, NOT thinking of Anna, or the hurt in her eyes if she were to ever know that Elsa was kissing a boy that she realized, quite quickly, she had no interest in kissing at all.

When Elsa had kissed Anna, the world had melted away.

It was no surprise that Elsa spent their entire kiss comparing Jared, in every way, to Anna. It was no surprise that she was quite thoroughly disappointed.

What was a surprise, however, was that Elsa leaned back in for a second kiss, not allowing herself to think or even wallow in the guilt of using this beaming boy.

She did not see the flashbulb. Her eyes were closed, if only out of wistful thinking, and the music was so loud that not even the click of a camera could have pierced her surprisingly thoughtful reverie.

It was no surprise that people would be interested in the love affairs of a billionaire's daughter.

What was a surprise was the picture on the front cover of the local tabloid Monday morning: one Elsa Arendelle, heiress to one of the largest industrial fortunes of the time, kissing Jared Brunswick at a dimly lit party.

**Author's Note: Your patience is truly and unbelievably rewarding. Believe me, when I give my love, I mean it. **

**Now before anyone gets on to me, I want you to understand: Elsa is NOT ATTRACTED TO JARED BRUNSWICK. She is attracted to her father's approval. Elsa is not a "lesbian until she met the right guy," or "confused," or any other silly TV tropes. She is simply attempting to please her father. **

**On another note, if any of you would be interested, feel free to follow me on tumblr: gingerdaze. I happened to see my story on a fic rec the other day and nearly burst into tears of joy. So, if you don't mind my fratty posts or Gossip Girl or feminist rants or Harry Potter or puppies, you should most definitely follow me. **

**Thanks so much for your support, and your comments and critiques are always welcome! Much love!**

**-Abby**


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